Few Beautiful Friendships
by IWLTxo
Summary: Sirius is re-sorted at the start of Sixth Year into Slytherin, though not for the reasons most assume. He has a plan to bring Voldemort down from the inside as a Death Eater. But it's going to take time, buckets of determination and most importantly, balls of steel. He doesn't expect to make friends, and certainly doesn't expect to fall in love. [Hiatus, will continue.]
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything, save the plot and the OCs.

**A/N: **Yes, another Sirius fanfic. I can't seem to write anything else but him. He's my favourite character. Anyway, this is majorly AU, and definitely one of the stories I'm more enthusiastic about. I hope you like it. I don't think there are any other fanfics out there like it.

* * *

**Part One****  
**

**The Beginning  
**

_xoxo_

* * *

Sirius can name the few beautiful friendships he has. Two. Well, two and a half.

Is he really going to throw it all away though? For his brother? For his absolutely amazing, but at the same time absolutely idiotic and easily swayed, weak and fearful, little baby brother?

When they met on the train for the first time, one of them an arrogant and young bespectacled boy and the other puzzled and scared of the dark; their lives forever changed.

Sirius hadn't gotten on the train thinking James Potter is going to be his best friend. But he is. He didn't speak to James in hopes that he will meet someone who he would die for willingly.

But he will. Sirius will die for any of them; James, Remus ... Peter. A million times over. Only, he'll die for his brother too.

_Regulus._

And now his parents have offered him an ultimatum, and Sirius has said yes. He doesn't have to go through with it, he doesn't need to, but he's going to.

He hasn't told his parents about the other part of his plan though.

His plan that involves Dumbledore; a plan that was constructed days after his parents offered him the ultimatum: _stay with your family, the only family you've ever known, you will ever know, or leave and take your filthy Gryffindor ideals with you._

_Leave Regulus whilst he's untainted by you._

_You ruin everything, don't ruin him._

And Sirius loves his brother so much. It may not come across much, but he does. He really really does.

He's on the train right now. It's cold, his friends are laughing, and time is just skipping past; running from him, his happiness, his friends, it's all going to leave him soon. But he has to deal with it.

He's the one breaking it all, right?

* * *

_~strength~_

* * *

Sirius's legs tremble as he jumps out of the thestral-pulled carriage, his friends following after him. Funny how the train ride to Hogwarts, which usually takes all day, has just sped by rapidly.

It's as if barely an hour ago he just mounted the train after exchanging some heated words with his parents. And now here he is, walking towards Hogwarts.

Sixth Year is going to be a difficult year; the most difficult of all. No one can know about the plan, _no one_...

James elbows him sharply, throwing a thick woollen cloak over his shoulders and grinning at Sirius. His fierce hazel eyes sparkle behind his spectacles.

"Alright, Pads?" he asks.

In the background, he can hear Hagrid asking the First Years if they're alright, and helping others out of the tiny boats.

_It's time._

Sirius smiles tightly when James repeats his question, and nods slowly, trying to savour these last few moments. "You guys can go on without me; I have something to do-"

"What?" James asks curiously.

"Please," Sirius says quietly. It's Remus who makes his mind up for the Marauders, nodding at Sirius, and stepping back a bit.

They leave, ever so slowly.

"I'll see you guys in a bit," he calls. They turn to him and nod, eyes narrowed in suspicion, but justifiable suspicion.

Sirius waits for the First Years to appear. They take their time, one of them shivering and another wearing Hagrid's enormous coat. They're chattering away excitedly; but who wouldn't be excited.

It's Hogwarts!

The Hogwarts. Esteemed, notorious, gorgeous Hogwarts. Known for its good and its bad.

Only, Sirius isn't excited for what is about to commence. In fact, his stomach is dancing with butterflies and his mouth is dry.

He, after a long moment spent shivering, joins the First Years, following them as they crowded around McGonagall. His legs are trembling and he stops short of them, not able to carry on. McGonagall gave him a scrutinising, almost cold look. But she knows what is supposed to be happening. And she's devastated because of it.

He holds his head high, ignoring the children watching him. They are curious. Why is an older student with them? What is he doing?

When McGonagall finished giving the crowd the mandatory speech, the tall and magnificent doors of the Great Hall open. Sirius is a little worried. What will his friends think?

They'll be angry. Sixth Year is supposed to be a good year; challenging, yes. But after all the trials and tribulations they have fought through in Fifth Year, this year is supposed to bring them closer.

Bind them together.

Only it won't.

The Marauders are over. He's breaking them ... they don't know yet, but he is.

The gasps of surprise when he entered the hall: tall, proud and silent, echo through the room. He shivers, pain spiking somewhere deep in his chest.

Eyes bore into him from the Gryffindor table; they're the ones shouting the loudest. They're confused. They just want to make sure what is happening is what they think is happening.

Sirius himself is confused. And his confusion grows even more when he hears his friends calling his name-

"PADFOOT?" James's voice.

He ignores James, sparing him only a short moment to send a quick smile.

"Silence!" McGonagall roars to the rest of the hall when the First Years are settled in a group in front of the Sorting Hat.

"Good evening, students. Welcome to the new ones, may you enjoy your time at Hogwarts. As for the old students, welcome back! I have much to talk to you all about, but before we start our feast, the sorting needs to begin." This time, it's Dumbledore talking; eyes particularly piercing and sapphire.

There's a half-hearted round of applause after a startled moment. Most people are now thinking "Black's just getting re-sorted to prove how much of a Gryffindor he is. He's sick of people doubting him and the hat's choice," but they're not completely sure.

"Now, First Years, you put this Sorting Hat and wait for it to place you in either Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor or Slytherin," McGonagall calls. She unfolds her roll of parchment and pushes her glasses up. "Aales, Kelly."

A small girl hurries up the steps and sits on the small stool. After a few seconds, the hat roars: "RAVENCLAW!"

And the rest of the night passes in a similar fashion. Sirius is trembling. He's never been so scared. He bites his lip and runs a hand through his hair, tousling it. Many people are still calling his name, but he ignores them. They can wait. They have to wait because if he so much as looks at them right now, he'll chicken out and flop the whole plan.

When "Zussmen, Iris" is sorted into Slytherin, the only person waiting is Sirius, the only person left.

Funny how, even though his surname is Black, he's never felt so light before. Like he's air, lighter than air. Weightless...

His hands start shaking again; he's more than scared ... and he has never hated his mother more than in this moment.

"Your turn Mr Black."

He spends a moment calming himself, breathing in and out before he takes a step forward. Then he stops.

"Professor, I'm not as small as I used to be; I don't think I'll fit on the stool."

Some people laugh nervously. He swallows, cursing the loudness of his voice. McGonagall smiles tightly before waving her wand and growing the stool. He sits down on it and winces when the Sorting Hat is placed on his head.

_"Sirius Black. I remember you."_

"I remember you too," he whispers softly. Then he sighs audibly.

_"What do you want, Sirius?"_

"To protect my brother..."

"_And you think this is the only way—"_

"I know this is the only way," he replies, a little more fiercely then necessary.

_"Do you remember, Sirius, your first sorting, and the trouble I had placing you?"_

"Yes."

_"You remember that I had trouble choosing between Gryffindor and Slytherin?"_

"Yes."

_"You know what I must choose now."_

"Yes. I want you to choose it."

There's a moment's silence.

"SLYTHERIN!" the hat roars, in a voice louder than anyone has ever heard. It echoes, much like the questions bellowed at Sirius when he first entered the hall. The horrible three syllable word rings around him, like a hiss, and he flinches.

"Slytherin," Sirius repeats, moments later; his body frozen with shock.

"Slytherin."

He feels like crying. There's no applause. People are still waiting for the pin to drop, for Sirius to turn around and laugh, telling them it's all a hoax.

"Sirius!" a voice shouts, and he looks towards the Slytherin table, his table.

Regulus is waving his arm and beckoning him forward. Sirius stands up shakily and bites his lip, turning to face McGonagall and trailing after her when she leads him to the corner of the hall.

She turns to face him; her lips so thin, he can barely even see them. Whilst she talks, Dumbledore has stood up and is once again commanding the hall's attention with pleas and requests from Filch and other members of staff. "I have no objections of you going to the Gryffindor common room," says McGonagall, "but I think it would be best to hide and make sure no one sees you, otherwise you'll undermine your whole mission."

"Right," he says, nodding and running another hand through his hair. He mentally makes a note to never go to the Gryffindor common room. It'll be too hard.

"And remember what Dumbledore said..."

"I won't tell anyone, I promise," he vows. "Never."

"Never, Black." McGonagall's voice is deep. Then she sighs sadly. "I'm going to miss you, Sirius."

"I'll miss all of you too. But you do realise I have to do this."

When McGonagall doesn't say anything, he surprises himself by touching her gently on the arm. "Where do I collect my Slytherin tie and badge?"

McGonagall taps his badge and tie with her wand, vanishing them. Then she conjures a green and silver tie and badge for Sirius before handing it to him.

"I don't think green and silver will suit me," he jokes, getting out his wand and bonding the badge to his robe. Then he flicks his collar up and starts hastily knotting his tie.

"Nonsense, you'll look dashing," McGonagall says, her voice shaking. "Slughorn would probably want to see you at the end of the feast or tomorrow at breakfast. He'll be chuffed."

Already, people are tucking in to their meals, trying not to pay attention to the pair at the corner of the hall.

"Could I ..."

"Come speak to me whenever you want, Sirius. Whenever. I'm still your Head of House, maybe not officially, but by heart, I hope."

He touches her arm again. "Definitely." And then without looking back, and ignoring the eyes watching him, he strides haughtily all the way to the Slytherin table; collar still flicked up, tie wonky and messy, cheeks flushed. He does not look like Sirius Black, but instead a young boy who is lost and broken.

There's a space between Regulus, who is patting eagerly on the seat, and the younger Lestrange.

Sirius stares at the seat. He looks between the seat, his brother and reluctantly, at the Marauders. All shocked, heartbroken, all watching and waiting. Surely Sirius can just call off the whole thing now, call it a bluff or a joke ... Dumbledore will not be too annoyed ... just a bit let down. _Right?_

"Sirius," says Regulus, eyes wide and pleading. "Sit down."

And he does, ever so slowly. Everyone is watching him, but he does it anyway. Isn't Sirius the one who says "Attention is attention, no matter how you get it"?

He has never seen so many disappointed faces. Regulus throws an arm around him and whispers into his older brother's ear, "You won't regret this."

"I'm holding you to that." Sirius replies.

Then he pours himself some Pumpkin Juice and stares at his lap for the duration of the meal.

Eyes are boring in to him, from every direction.

This is going to be so hard...

Losing the people he cares about: James, Remus, Peter; losing Gryffindor. But if he can help end the war, if he is good enough, powerful enough, who's to say that maybe after all the mess is over, they won't take him back...

He hopes they will. Because he cares about them too much. They're his best friends, after all.

* * *

**A/N: **Please review and tell me what you think! Thank you!


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer; **I don't own Harry Potter.

Beta'ed by the amazing Dragon Silhouette.

* * *

**Part One**

**The Beginning  
**

_xoxo_

* * *

Sirius doesn't wait a single moment; as soon as Dumbledore bids them all goodnight, he quite literally soars out of his seat and runs as fast as he can out of the Great Hall.

God must have mercy on him; his tears don't fall, as he adamantly forces them back ... for now. He hurries to the sink and whether it's wandless magic or not, the taps shriek as they pump out water. He cups the clear liquid in his hands and throws it up at his face.

Sirius gasps out a raggedy breath; he's done it, he's really done it. But what exactly _has _he done? What'll happen now.

His mother has ruined everything. The only friendships he has ever had. Oh, Sirius knows quite a few people, but he isn't friends with them. He doesn't consider them friends. The Marauders though ... they're a different matter entirely.

Sirius thinks back on the day he ruined his life. When his mother presented her ultimatum: the Marauders, or his family.

* * *

_~friendships~_

* * *

Walburga Black is a cold, manipulative, cunning, sly, scheming, controlling, devious, evil, wicked...

Walburga Black is a bitch, to put it plainly.

All she's ever worried about, all she's ever cared about, is her reputation and what people think of her. Never has she thought about her children; the mental pain they would go through because of her selfish choices.

Like now for example - she's chosen to offer Sirius an ultimatum. _Leave or do as we say. _They're at dinner when it happens. Orion on Walburga's left, Sirius and Regulus opposite both their parents. Sirius smiles when they look at him, biting the inside of his mouth to stop from cringing when his mother reaches over to smooth his thick black hair.

"Orion," she says, "do you want to tell them the good news? Or shall I?"

Sirius drops his fork, watching his parents with narrowed eyes. "Mother?" he asks carefully.

"This doesn't concern you Sirius—"

"Is it about what I think it is?" the teenager cries, jumping up and promptly dropping his fork to the ground. All amusement is gone now. "Is it?" He had heard them talking about Death Eater business and some Dark Lord rubbish a while back.

Only, it isn't rubbish, is it? It can't be rubbish if the Dark Lord is killing people, just because of their blood. They can't help it. They can't control their blood, and the Muggle genes that taint it.

His parents ignore him, but Walburga sends her eldest son a chilling look. "Regulus, you've always admired the Dark Arts, you've admired what the Dark Lord has promised—"

"No, he hasn't admired anything! You've made him feel this way!" the silver eyed teen shrieks, hands trembling. He staggers back when his mother's hand connects with his face; the sharp slap marking his cheek red.

"Don't do this Regulus!" Sirius cries, turning to face his brother. "I'm leaving if you do this; I'm leaving if you make him do this." He turns his mutinous glare to his mother, and for a second, she seems genuinely frightened. Orion stands up too. And now, the only seated one is Regulus, who is watching the scene with avid attention, disbelief, shock...

"I ... I ..." Regulus doesn't know what to do; but who would, in his situation? After all, he has to choose now. His mother and father, or his big brother?

"Listen Sirius," Walburga snaps angrily. "You listen to me clearly, you foolish boy. The Dark Lord would not take Regulus anyway, he's not sixteen. You however..."

"What?" The breath has left him, gone straight out of him. He can hardly breathe. She's fucking about – she has got to be fucking about. She can't actually think ... she's not ... but for Reg, he will do _anythinggggg!_

And she knows that. The sly, controlling, manipulative bitch knows that.

"What?" he repeats hoarsely, voice at least two octaves higher than usual, throat a little dry, tongue heavy and thick.

"You Sirius ... you turned sixteen months ago ... you can..." Her voice is hopeful, optimistic. She's wishing and betting and ... fuck, she's clever.

"Mother, y-you can't be s-serious," he manages to pant, running a hand through his suddenly sweat-matted hair, and gnawing on his chapped bottom lip.

"I am serious. You have destroyed this family, our public image. You owe us—" she cries suddenly, her voice passionate and her eyes boring into her eldest son's. The eyes they share...

"We promise to leave Regulus alone, until he's of age, until he can make choices of his own, if you fulfil the family name and take up what was always yours, what is rightfully yours."

"B-But I can't..."

"Then do this," Orion snaps impatiently. He's a tall man, frightening and imposing. He's well-built and very strong too; mentally and physically. Definitely physically. How many times has he beaten Sirius into submission?

"Do what?" Sirius doesn't mean for his voice to sound so petulant and childish, and his father clearly agrees, face taking on the expression of someone very angry.

"Don't take that tone with me young man," rumbles Orion, stepping forward.

"Sorry father," Sirius pleads. "Please father, d-don't do this."

"Listen to me!" Orion bellows, and almost instantly, Sirius shuts up. His father is the more practical one, not by much, but enough to sometimes save Sirius from doing some very dumb tasks set by Walburga. "Transfer to Slytherin."

For the millionth time, Sirius utters that one syllable question. "What?"

"If we pay the school governors enough money, especially with one of them being Abraxas Malfoy, the father in law of our niece, we can transfer you to Slytherin. Or rather, we can get you a resorting. Say Slytherin this time. Tell that hat you want to..." The older man stops when the intensity of his son's glare cuts him off.

Sirius isn't frowning now, or even glaring. His eyes reveal each bit of the murderous intent he's barely managing to restrain. He's livid, enraged, beside himself. Sirius's hands clench into fists, and he's so close to just swinging for his father.

He wants to leave now. He wants to run away. He's sixteen. He has a motorbike, a hundred and nine galleons in his trunk, and the three best friends anyone can ask for. What is he waiting for? What's keeping him behind?

_Regulus..._

"Don't do this," Sirius pleads. "Please don't do this. Just ... just give us a few years ... we'll build the family name back up, we'll—"

"You can't. Besides," Walburga comments, flicking some hair behind her ear after looking intently into the spoon transfigured into a mirror, "it seems the only way to build the family name back up is to join the Dark Lord."

"You can't do this to me," he says, backing away, eyes wide and frantic. "Please."

"Regulus is going to become a Death Eater, aren't you Regulus? The Dark Lord does not accept anyone younger than sixteen, fearing that they are too under-experienced, aren't worthy enough yet to become part of his fold. And Regulus turns sixteen in November." Walburga leans forward and takes her eldest son's hands. "But if you transfer to Slytherin, help us build up the family reputation again; we'll consider dropping the issue."

"You? Drop the issue?" Sirius spits before he can control himself. "You don't drop anything. It's been five years already and you still won't forgive me for getting into Gryffindor!"

"What do you expect?" Walburga launches back, dropping her son's hands as if they are burning her. "There has never been a Black in a house other than Slytherin. But as usual, you test everything Sirius, you ruin everything."

"So that's it?" he says after maybe three or four minutes of silence – pure, unadulterated silence, where not even the intake of oxygen can be heard. "You want me to go to Slytherin? And then you'll leave Regulus alone? You'll leave me alone?"

"Give up Gryffindor, and we promise Sirius," Walburga's eyes glistens with hope and expectancy and eagerness, "your father and I promise ... we'll leave you alone. Isn't that what you've wanted? Since your first sorting? To be left alone? We'll leave you alone."

"I ... can't – I can't decide. I don't know..." He sends his brother an apologetic look, but Regulus can't meet his gaze. Maybe he doesn't have the confidence; but one thing's for sure, Regulus feels heartbroken. What's to be expected though?

His elder brother is giving up everything he is, all he has ever known, to protect him. How can Regulus ever pay that back?

"Give me time. Let me think," the older brother begs, wicked silver eyes flashing from parent to parent: the tall, composed, daunting Orion; and the petit, graceful, sly Walburga. He doesn't know, in that moment, who he hates more.

"We'll give you the rest of today. But by tomorrow, you need to decide."

"In fact," Walburga says after a moment, "don't decide. Just leave. Get out and don't come back. We'll know your choice then."

"Right..." Sirius breathes. "Right."

Then he leaves the room and doesn't look back. Half an hour later, up in his bedroom and playing with the quaffle James gave him years ago, Sirius takes his third cigarette out of the deck, lighting it with a snap of his fingers and inhaling deeply.

Fuck...

* * *

_~broken~_

* * *

He doesn't know what's more painful; the memory of making the promise, or actually fulfilling the promise. He can't believe what he's done.

Sirius looks up into the mirror; his grey eyes twinkling, lips a vivid shade of red, cheeks flushed pink. He still has the time and the chance to call this all off.

Only, his conscience doesn't let him. He'll be breaking a promise to Dumbledore, to all those Muggleborns out there in danger. Dumbledore is right. This plan, it's fucking brilliant. And if he plays it just right then ... then maybe his friends will take him back, after all the mess is sorted. Sirius splashes his face with water again.

Then the toilet doors burst open and he jumps a little, whipping around to face his Marauders.

"Prongs," he manages to say before the fist comes down. Sirius dodges it, but barely. James is a chaser after all, his aim is true.

Those hazel eyes Sirius has spent years admiring show anger and hatred, something Sirius has never had the _honour _of experiencing first hand. Apart from the time last year when he got drunk and told Snape where Remus transforms.

"Prongs—"

"DON'T CALL ME THAT! YOU LOST THE RIGHT TO CALL ME THAT WHEN YOU BETRAYED US! YOU'VE JUST _BETRAYED_ US!" He aims to punch Sirius again, and this time, the fist connects with the side of the other boy's face. He almost falls to the ground, as he covers his bleeding lip.

"Why would you...? Why would you do this?" James pauses, already in the process of preparing to punch his best friend some more. He genuinely looks confused; glasses lopsided and teeth worrying the pink flesh of his lip.

"Y-you don't ... you won't understand." The silver eyed boy says impatiently, yet he stays standing where he is. Watching them. Waiting for them to do something, to say something.

"That's what all the funny business was down there, by the carriages," Remus says in a monotonous, dead voice. He's angry. More than angry. "You were trying to say goodbye."

"This doesn't have to be goodbye, this doesn't mean—"

"Like hell it doesn't mean goodbye!" James roars, poking Sirius hard in the chest. "You ruined us. We're supposed to be best friends ... you and I ... we're supposed to be brothers. We became Animagi, we fought through a-all that Snape business a few months ago ... we ... we have dreams..."

Before he knows what he's doing, Sirius is repeating the lies Dumbledore personally engraved into his mind. "You guys are my best friends too James, of course you are. But I've realised ... James, everyone has to wake up in the end. I've woken up. I'm not like you."

"So what?" James spits. "I do-don't understand ... you're leaving us? You're l-leaving the Marauders?"

Biting down hard on his lip, Sirius nods, albeit a brief moment of hesitation "I think, James, it's time for me to give up this fantasy of being different from my family. It's time for me to just go home."

Despite his words, he's pleading with his eyes, begging for them to understand. Pray to God, James understands.

Repeating an action Sirius has seen a million and one times, James runs a hand through his hair shakily. Then he looks down at his friend on the ground, shakes his head and turns away.

But he freezes, when Sirius utters those two ending words, "Bye James."

"Bye," he hoarsely breathes back before continuing down that dark route, that dark tunnel, the tunnel that splits off from Sirius. Because their trust is broken, their friendship is broken. And now James must continue down his own path, just like Sirius must continue down the path carved for him by his parents and Dumbledore.

"_Bye..._" the Slytherin breathes for a final time when his friends are gone. Remus, golden brown eyes wet with sadness; Peter, confusion written all over his face; and James ... betrayed, hurt, and angry.

* * *

_~sorry~_

* * *

Sirius leaves an hour later. His whole body is shaky, and he doesn't have a single clue. He doesn't know what to do. He can guess though, what Dumbledore has planned for him...

Time to visit the snake's pit. Filled with thrashing pythons and sly serpents; it's time for Sirius to meet what he's going to be living with for the next two years.

He knows his way to the Slytherin dungeon. After all, Slytherins are, more often than not, the target for Marauder mischief.

When he appears at the Slytherin common room entrance, he stares at the grey stone wall. It doesn't move. "Pureblood?" it comes out as more of a question than an answering password.

"Cold? Heartless? Slimy? Fucked up? Retarded?" when none of those passwords work (though he never really expected them to) Sirius kicks the wall, and murmurs profanities under his breath angrily.

"I get cold and heartless, but slimy? _Really?_"

Sirius whips around, only to see Mulciber, Avery, Snape, Thomason, and one of the Crabbe brothers.

_Fuck ... well isn't he just done for?_

"Well, you've got Snape with you. I must have just assumed that all of you are like that."

Snape's expression hardens and his hand drops down to fist at his robes, searching for his wand. Dammit ... the slimy bastard withdraws it, twirling the long black wand between his lithe, thin fingers.

"I'm not sure what to do first ... stun him, maybe ... toss him about for a bit ... torture him..."

Sirius launches at Snape, fighting tooth and nail.

It's the first test, Sirius decides, as they all fight back, managing to overpower him before using their wands when they physically tire. They spit on him, kick him, punch and bruise him, stun him, curse him ... torture him...

And Sirius comes to the conclusion that he's hardly paid the price for mentally fucking these guys (and not in the good way) for five years.

He's shivering and bleeding when they're done with him, but Sirius refuses to cry or show any sadness in fact.

He grunts when Snape's farewell kick connects with his stomach, and Sirius spits out blood at the other boy's feet. "Fuck you," he pants.

"No thanks," Snape laughs, eyes glistening and blood drying under his lip. As the group of boys walk away, Snape pauses. "You come in our room, Black, and you're dead. You hear me?"

Sirius doesn't even have the energy to retort, instead focusing all his power on getting up. But he can't. They're no one in sight now; he's alone.

_Get UP, Sirius, UP!_

But he can't. He heaves, before slumping back down to the ground painfully. "F-fuck," Sirius exhales heavily, body contorting as he tries to get comfortable. But he can't. Because the floor is evil and cold, and most definitely not there to sleep on.

"Sirius?" a voice whispers from the shadows. Then Regulus freezes when he sees his brother. "Fuck, Sirius, you're bleeding. Why are you bleeding? You're hurt. Okay, try and stand up, I'll help you get to the Hospital Wing..."

Sirius doesn't hear anymore and he's sort of grateful. As much as he loves his little brother, Regulus sure is dim sometimes.

* * *

_~loss~_

* * *

James can't stop himself from screaming in anger when he's in his room, the Marauders' room.

No, not the Marauders' room. Sirius has broken that. Ripped it up and torn it to pieces. That's what betraying your friends does. It ruins everything...

Betrayal after betrayal...

And time after time, Sirius is forgiven. But not this time. Because leaving Gryffindor; your friends, your family for a bunch of writhing, cruel, evil snakes is definitely not worthy of forgiving. It surpasses the limit that they, as people, can take.

He's broken them. And they don't know how to piece themselves back together.

"How ... how can ... why's he—" James starts blubbering and crying and screaming all at once. Remus comes up behind him and for the first time in quite a while, they hug briefly; a shoulder to shoulder, rough back-slapping sort of hug. The one exercised when men want to retain their masculine dignity but still seek for just a little bit of comfort.

"I don't understand Moony."

"Neither do I."

"What do we do?" James asks quickly, eyes flickering up to Remus's. There's still a spare bed in their dorm. The bed closest to the window, up against one of the walls. Right beside James's bed.

"We find out why he did this..."

Peter starts to talk. He's in shock, and though he's never shared a connection with Sirius like the other two, he's always admired the boy's bravery, his courage and even his streak of foolhardiness. But Peter's known for a while that Sirius barely regards him as a friend, more like a necessary presence in their group.

"I think it's pretty obvious why he's done this," says Peter, looking up to meet the infuriated gaze of James. The unspoken ringleader of the Marauders. The one who brought and continues to bring them together.

"I'm failing to see the obviousness Peter, so please, please enlighten me," James seethes, daring Peter to continue, because he can guess where the hell Peter is going with this; and the foolish boy, bless, does continue.

"He's living up to his family name. He's always been a Slytherin, only now he's accepting it—"

Remus barely manages to restrain James from lunging at the stupid boy. After a minute or two, the bespectacled Marauder relaxes.

"You watch what you say about Sirius," James says softly. "You would do well to remember everything he's done for you."

_What's he ever done for me?_ Peter wants to ask. But he simply nods, adopting that ignorant, foolish expression of his. He's smarter than people give him credit for. But being underestimated can only lead to good things, right? It might prove useful in the future...

"We would all do well to remember everything he has done for us. All he's sacrificed. And he's betrayed us; he's betrayed us so bad. But I still care about him because he's my friend." James seems to be speaking to himself now.

"There's got to be a reason ... he's not doing it voluntarily, I know him. I know Sirius."

James suddenly switches. He's spitting and thrashing, hands contort into fists, face twists into a glare of hatred and anger. "He needs to move houses again. He can't do this to us. He ... he can't..."

He snatches his cloak from the floor, almost trips on Remus's trunk, but the incident doesn't deter him, instead, it spurs him on.

He stomps down the staircase, eyes wide behind his spectacles. "James," Remus is calling. "What are you going to do?"

Everyone's watching. Who wouldn't watch? It's the Marauders. Girls want to date them and boys want to be like them. Strangely enough though, no one wants anything to do with them at this moment. Considering one of the Marauders has just bailed on Gryffindor to go to Slytherin...

_Dirty traitor._

"I'm gonna ask him to come back, I'm gonna tell him to stop fucking about, to stop being such an idiot ... I just want him back, Remus. He's my best friend, my brother. He ... I— _why_..." He's at a loss for words, and he's shaking badly.

"It's done James," a female voice says from beside him. James whips around to face her, the love of his life, the girl who hates him most. She has an expression of the utmost sympathy, and for a second, James believes she's sad Sirius has left.

She really is sad. "He's gone."

"He can't be," James snaps, and she's taken back. He's never snapped at her. It almost endears Lily, to see Potter, so beaten up over the absence and betrayal of his best friend.

"Go to bed James, sleep on it. Speak to him in the morning. I bet he's disorientated himself. Let him rest."

James, without another word, turns around and goes up the stairs. And the fifty or so Gryffindors down in the common room hear, distantly, a door slamming.

* * *

_~love~_

* * *

In the morning, at breakfast, Sirius comes into the Great Hall. He's half asleep, and quite tired, so he can't be accountable for his actions. But he stops just short of the Gryffindor table, runs a hand through his hair and turns away to walk over to the Slytherin table.

It's too late though. All the Gryffindors have seen his face. Madam Pomfrey tried her hardest last night to heal all his injuries, but some of the bruises (cursed and dark) just wouldn't leave his face. His right eye is black and his lip is swollen; the red bruise marks his pale cheekbone and he's got a healing scar right about his eyebrow.

"_What happened?_" someone asks from the Gryffindor table. Sirius curses himself for pausing, but ignores the voice and continues down the long, winding road of betrayal: he sits beside Regulus at the Slytherin table and tucks into his meal, begging mentally for everyone to stop watching.

But they don't, they just watch harder.

Sirius used to like attention; but he hates it now, as much as he hates Snape and his cronies, as much as he hates Slytherin...

As much as he hates his _goddamn_ mother.

* * *

**A/N: **Here's the second chapter of Part One. I hope you like it.

Here's a funny story though: I had an english exam recently, and whilst I was reading through my essay and checking it, I saw that I spelt "serious" as "Sirius" several times. I could not stop laughing, and got told off by one of those bossy invigilators.

On a final note, please review. I'm wondering whether this story is good or not...

Thanks to _Guest_, _codla_, _lailadreams_ and _hufflepuffloveforever.x_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Please follow, favourite, and most importantly, review. Tell me what you think!

* * *

**Part One**

**The Beginning**

_xoxo_

* * *

Sirius can deal with the whispers, the rumours that circulate, but he can't deal with the goddamn stares. He has his mother to thank for that though. The enormous red envelope lands on his plate of egg and starts smoking.

Sirius cringes and moves back a little, weighing up the options of _bottling _it or manning up and staying to listen to the howler.

His mother's rumbling voice fills the hall, drowning out the howler shrieking at the other end of the hall.

Maybe Sirius should not call the envelope a howler, because his mother's not howling at him; she's praising him.

_"I am so proud of you Sirius; you've finally lived up to the family name! You're in Slytherin! And your father and I are happier than ever. We've decided to let you keep your motorbike, on the condition that you..."_

It's agony; her words of praise and happiness, the pride she feels. She's never, in all his adolescent years, sounded so loving and caring. She hates Sirius. Or rather, she acts that way. But now, she genuinely sounds happy, and as incredible at acting as Walburga Cassiopeia Black is, Sirius believes her. But he's pissed off. She's embarrassing him; in front of the school, in front of his _best friends! _

And what gets him angrier, still, is when he turns and sees Mulciber, Avery and Snape laughing at him. They have the audacity to _laugh _at him. Don't they know who he is?

Well he needs to remind them, doesn't he?

Sirius knows he looks a fright; cheeks bruised and eyes swollen. But he doesn't give a flying fuck. He gets up, pulling his wand out, right in front of the enormous full-Great-Hall audience he has; with dozens of professors watching, even Dumbledore, and worst of all, the Marauders.

"Stupefy," he spits, and watches as Avery topples out of his seat. He isn't the one Sirius is aiming for, but he notices that he doesn't care much.

"Bastard," Mulciber roars at him, getting his own wand out. The duel is _on..._

Sirius deflects all of their curses, and manages to throw sharp, dark ones back. Eggs fly in the air, bacons across the room, kippers right into the faces of First Years, and so much more. With almost a perfect turn, Sirius twists brilliantly from the sharp curse coming his way, and with a particularly impeccable _Protego, _sends the curse back the way it came.

Then of course, he's restrained from behind by a worried, frankly quite pissed off, Professor Charlotte Hardy; a young, beautiful woman, and their new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor for this year.

"Look at me like that again," Sirius roars, voice echoing in the hall, "and I'll fucking rip your throat out you dirty little—"

"SIRIUS BLACK!" McGonagall cries, "MY OFFICE NOW! FIFTY POINTS FROM GRYF-..." she stops talking when she realises what she's saying. He's not _hers _anymore.

She's at a loss for words, not knowing what to do. And that's when Charlotte Hardy takes over, feeling sympathy for the disorientated older woman. "Should I take him to my office, Professor?"

"T-that..." McGonagall struggles to compose herself, but nods, "that would be good, thank you Professor Hardy."

Sirius towers over Hardy when he straightens up and walks with her, at least five or six inches taller. He sends a cruel, bitter glare to the group of Slytherins all huffing angrily, but leaves with his Defence Professor, walking with dignity and swagger, the type that others envy.

When they're in her quarters, filled with unpacked boxes, Sirius stands awkwardly at the door, waiting for her to tell him what to do.

She conjures wordlessly a streaming hot teapot and some sandwiches, placing them on the small table. "Eat." She tells him. Sirius didn't have time yesterday to watch the new DADA Professor, but he does faintly remember Dumbledore introducing her.

She's young, blonde and very pretty; with large, intelligent brown eyes and thick lashes, Sirius wishes for a moment that he's older, or she's younger...

"Now, I've not known you a day yet. But I sure do know that you've bailed out on Gryffindor and moved to Slytherin. That must have stirred up quite a reaction in Slytherin, huh?"

Sirius flinches. _Bailed? He hasn't bailed! He's just trying to protect everyone, Regulus, the whole damn world!_

"You don't understand."

"McGonagall laid it down pretty bare for me, Mr Black," Hardy challenges, sipping from her mug of tea and chewing on her pouty bottom lip, whilst she thinks deeply.

"Hmm? And what exactly did she say?" Sirius spits. "How me and my friends have been the bane of her existence for five years? How we've lost more points than gained? How we've spent more time started fights than doing homework?"

Suddenly, his anger flickers and before he knows it, Sirius is shouting. "You know, everyone acts like they understand me. My mother tells me she knows what I'm going through _every fucking day! _Only, no one knows what I've had to fucking sacrifice! And yesterday, I made the biggest sacrifice I'll ever fucking make. But no one's going to know, no one is ever going to know."

He's standing up now, pacing the large room.

"And it did stir up quite a reaction in Slytherin, look at my face," he tilts his face at a particular angle, showing her the bruises and scars on his face.

"The Gryffindors hate me, the Slytherins hate me. I don't belong anywhere anymore." As Sirius says this, the truth begins to daunt on him.

"I don't belong anywhere..."

Then a house elf comes, telling Sirius that Dumbledore is ready for him.

* * *

_~gold~_

* * *

James is tempted to get up and dive into the duel to back Sirius up, like he's spent the majority of his time at Hogwarts doing. But he can't, because he _hates _Sirius.

James woke up this morning, despising his friend more than he's ever despised anyone. Moreover, James doesn't hate Sirius because he's a Slytherin. He hates Sirius because he feels so betrayed; so heartbroken.

And James doesn't like feeling heartbroken or betrayed; they're foreign feelings to him, and so he doesn't know how to _deal _with them. And crying himself to sleep is not a good way to deal with it.

He's almost embarrassed, and worried that the other Mar—

That the _others_ heard him, but they didn't. James is glad that they're the smallest Sixth Year Gryffindor dormitory though; with only six in the room; there were seven but Sirius...

Is gone.

There's the other dormitory with six too, the one Remus was originally in, but they swapped for someone called Garrett.

James is snatched out of his reverie when he hears McGonagall screaming. She stops abruptly, and that's when the new Defence teacher leaves with Sirius, the handsome teenager sending glares at the Slytherins whilst he saunters out of the hall.

"He's such an idiot," comes a voice not far from James. He turns and sees Lily, watching the spot Sirius just disappeared from, almost nostalgically.

"I still can't believe it..." Marlene whispers, shaking her head, "he's really left us, hasn't he?"

"Yeah," Emeli says, another very nice girl in their year, but best friends with two Ravenclaws, two _abhorrent _Ravenclaws, stuck up, cocky and rude. "I went out with him too ... he was nice..."

"I just can't believe it. Why is he _doing _this?"

Remus can't help but agree. Why _is _he doing this? There has to be a reason...

Sirius won't throw away the Marauders for nothing. He's the one who came up with the idea to become Animagi for Remus, risking everything, spending hundreds of galleons for ingredients to help with the transformations, putting his life in danger...

No, Remus refuses to believe Sirius _voluntarily _left Gryffindor – he's still having a hard time believing that his best friend isn't coming back.

Sirius, who hugs him tight after every full moon and who gets as much butterbeer and honeydukes as he can carry from Hogsmeade, whilst Remus is recovering in the Hospital Wing.

Remus simply refuses to believe that someone as good and whole and kind as Sirius can just turn on his friends and be disloyal to them. But how can Remus find out _why _Sirius has done this? He sees Regulus get up from the large Slytherin table, two timetables in hand, and hurrying from the Great Hall.

_Regulus!_

Remus snatches his timetable from his seat, stuffs it into his leather satchel, and quite literally runs out of the hall, telling James and Peter "I'll see you in Transfiguration!"

Regulus looks a lot like Sirius from behind, almost identical. They have the same hair style, black and chin length, falling in waves. Regulus is a little shorter and less built than his brother; what with being a seeker, unlike his beater brother.

"Black!" Remus shouts, "Oi, Black!"

The younger boy whizzes around, fixing Remus with a scowl. "What d'you want, Lupin?" he hisses.

Remus is at least three or four inches taller than Regulus, being the tallest of all the Marauders. Right now, he doesn't appreciate the tone the younger boy is speaking to him with. He's already annoyed as it is, and pissed off.

He towers over the younger boy, running a hand through his blond-brown hair. "Tell me why Sirius left Gryffindor, and don't you even dare try to lie."

"It's none of your business, half-blood. Sirius can do whatever he wants. I'm sorry he's realised that you guys are nothing but bad news—"

Before he knows it, Remus has pushed Regulus very hard into the wall. "Tell me the truth Black. I'm not in the mood for you to fuck about."

"Look Lupin, he's gone. He's chosen me and my family because he's realised you are all _wrong. _Your path is _wrong, _your beliefs are _wrong _and ... w-wait, Lupin, where are you going?"

Remus doesn't even look behind him, instead simply calling over his shoulder, "To your brother. I wanna hear it from his lips." And without looking back to watch Regulus kick the wall and swear, Remus walks, his blondish brown hair blowing behind him, honey eyes smouldering.

* * *

_~red~_

* * *

Sirius looks up at the tall, imposing figure of Professor Albus Dumbledore. He's always admired, even fears just a little, the elder man. With a calm and collected persona, but a tempestuous temper whilst duelling, Dumbledore's reputation is worldwide.

He runs a hand through his thick black hair, before running it over his gorgeous face. "I'm sorry Professor; I know I've messed up..."

"We can't carry this on, Sirius, if you explode every time Mr Snape and Mr Avery look at you. Try to understand the fact that this is going to be happening for the next two years." Then Dumbledore pauses and shakes his head. "We should call this off. Obviously this is going to be—"

"_No!_" Sirius cries, standing up. His whole face is red and he's shaking his head passionately. They can't give up now! "No, Professor. W-we don't need to do that. I'm sorry. I'll do it right this time. I promise."

His eyes are wide and he's quite literally pleading with his eyes.

"Sit down, Sirius." Dumbledore says softly, taking the seat opposite Sirius at his desk, and gesturing at the other chair.

"I'm sorry Professor."

"You've nothing to apologise for, Sirius." He's conjuring some mugs and making them both a cup of tea. "You've thrown away a lot for this; for your family and for the good of the world. And even then, there's more of a chance that this will fail rather than it succeeding. You do know that, don't you?"

"Yes I do. Unless," Sirius interrupts, worrying his bottom lip, "unless I play this _perfectly._"

Dumbledore smiles. "Yes, Sirius. If you play this faultlessly, then we have a chance, a small chance, but one nonetheless. However, you just _cannot _let your temper get the better of you."

Sirius worries his bottom lip, eyes darting from the Headmaster, the fireplace and his teacup. "I don't even have anywhere to sleep. The other Slytherins aren't letting me stay in their dorms..."

"Well," Dumbledore cheerful voice says, "we'll just have to sort that out, won't we?"

Sirius can't believe it. Striding through the Slytherin common room (with a password of _Purity_) he and Dumbledore hurry down the boys' large corridor, up some steps and into the Elder Years section. Sirius comes to realise just how different the dormitories here are for the Slytherins. Every room just _screams _superiority. Unlike Gryffindor, where all the rooms are the same, and students keep their same rooms for seven years, in Slytherin, they upgrade. From smaller, less grand rooms to large, luxurious dormitories.

Soon, they're standing before the Sixth Year boys' dormitory, and Albus Dumbledore is knocking on the door, making his way in. No one's inside, thank god. But Sirius is hurt when he sees that the spare bed put (probably by the house elves) into the room is burned and destroyed.

With a flick of the elder man's wand, the bed is restored to its previous form. "I think the problem here," Dumbledore says, "is that they think you've gone soft. They aren't intimidated by you anymore. You are in _their _territory now Sirius, and therefore, it means that they're superior to you, for once, or so they feel."

Sirius, for the first time in days, smiles widely. "So, I need to get their respect again? Or rather, their fear?"

Grinning at Sirius, the Headmaster nods. "However will you do it?" he smiles kindly.

* * *

_~tears~_

* * *

Remus waits in the dungeons during lunch, knowing that Sirius is surely going to be inside the Slytherin common room. He just has to be. Why? Because Remus is in almost all of his classes, save Sirius taking Care of Magical Creatures instead of Ancient Runes, like Remus.

Sirius has been bunking all day. Or at least, Remus thinks it's bunking. Maybe his best friend is having so much fun he simply can't be bothered to attend lessons at all that day. But lunch is finishing in a bit, and after lunch, the Marauders have double Charms before the first day of school comes to an end.

Sirius has to come to Charms, he loves Charms. And he's very good at it, the best out of all the Marauders.

_The Marauders._

Remus keeps forgetting the silly group is over. They've split now, and can't simply go back together. In the minute it took Sirius to rip the band of friends apart, thousands and thousands of minutes would be needed to even bring the group just a _tiny _bit closer.

Either time or Memory Charms. Biting his lip, Remus looks up when he hears the door open. He frowns when he sees Sirius, a content smile on his face, tucking his dark wand into his pocket.

Sirius really does look awful; bruises, a black eye that's only slightly healed, and a swollen cheek. But he doesn't seem to care at all, instead freezing when he sees Remus, and raking a hand through his luscious black hair.

"Rem..." Sirius has always been the only person to call Remus _"Rem"_.

Before both boys know it, they've hurried to each other, and fiercely hugged one another. Sirius has pressed his cheek against the slightly taller Remus's neck, and is apologising profusely.

They break apart after minutes, maybe ten even. "Padfoot—"

"_Moony! _What are you doing down here? D'you want to get mobbed or something?"

Remus freezes. "What are _you _doing down here?"

Replying almost reluctantly, Sirius says, "I'm here because I live here—"

The blond-brown haired teenager shakes his head, and runs a hand over his tired face. He shakes his head again. "No, Sirius. That's not what I meant. I mean why are you here, with the Slytherins, when you belong in Gryffindor? Why have you ..." he can't even say the word, but manages to spit it out after a moment of struggling, "_betrayed _us?"

Sirius frowns. His handsome face contorts in anger. "What do you mean?"

"You're here, in Slytherin! When you don't belong there! You've betrayed us!" Remus spits angrily. "Do you know what you've done? I've never even _seen _James like this! Not even when Lily turned him down a few months ago in front of all those people! James ... you've broken him, and us, and me ... and everything."

"Is it my fault for wanting to just do as my family ask? Is it wrong?" Sirius asks quietly, danger creeping into his voice. All euphoria and happiness has left him. Yes, he's happy at seeing Remus. But at the same time, he's not. Sirius needs to learn how to survive without them. They're just people. The most important people in his life, yes. But how can he expect to complete the task set to him by Dumbledore if he's clinging onto the past, his old friends, the people he loves and will always love.

"No," Remus replies just as quietly, voice breathless and hands contorting into fists, "but it's your fault for letting us become so attached to you. It's your fault for doing so much for us, us _Marauders, _only to bail when things get tough. I've always known you to be an impulsive, brash bastard. But not a cowardly one—"

"No." Sirius breathes, hands clamping down to cover his ears. "Don't say stuff like that. Please don't say stuff like that." He begs.

Never would Sirius have imagined arguing and fighting with Remus. They've fought few times, maybe three or four times. The biggest being, of course, when Sirius told Snape how to get into the Whomping Willow.

"Come back." Remus whispers. And the pure, unadulterated, all-consuming emotion, heartbreak, grief in his voice quite literally _splits _Sirius open.

He steps forward and takes Remus's hands. "I can't." He replies softly, musing Remus's hair.

"Please," the taller Marauder begs. "We can't just pretend you ... we can't let you go. _I _can't let you go. You've done so much for me, Sirius."

A large bell sounds, but they ignore it.

"You've done so much for me too. But sometimes, Remus ... sometimes, you've gotta let go." He hugs Remus again, bringing his best friend close and embracing him. It's not the manly hug the Marauders exchange; a hug to reinforce their masculinity. No, instead, this is a hug exchanged to show the true heartbreak and sadness of the Marauders. They care about each other, and they don't give a crap what anyone thinks.

"Tell James ... never mind..."

_Tell James goodbye. _

"Why have you done this?" Remus's muffled reply comes. "There's got to be a reason why you've decided to do this."

When Sirius doesn't answer, Remus snatches his satchel from the ground, throws it over his shoulder, and with a parting look, turns to walk away. He doesn't hear the handsome pureblood's reply of, "To protect all of you."

* * *

_~scorching~_

* * *

Sirius knows this is probably the opposite of what Dumbledore means when he says Sirius needs to command their respect, once again. But the girl, under him, around him, scorching him ... she's the perfect way to do it, in Sirius's opinion.

He's sure the group of five outside the dorm room can hear everything. And when the door bursts open, and the group see a rather intimate scene, they run out, screeching like childish little virgins.

Sirius laughs and carries on. He should have their respect now ... but he can't possible leave Alisha, Aisha, whatever her name is, alone like this. He kisses her jaw and carries on, feeling much older than sixteen.

And when it's time for dinner, and Sirius to go to the lessons he's missed to speak to his teachers, he kisses Alisha/Aisha's shoulder, escorts her to the door and walks with her through the packed common room.

People hiss at him; cower from his, frown at him, grin, laugh, smile. He's never felt so superior in his life. In his pristine House of Black robes, and with a little bit of lipstick on his face, he looks at the group of Snape, Avery and Mulciber, sizing them up.

"Might want to change your sheets, Snape." Sirius laughs, before thrusting into Alisha/Aisha's back and kissing the side of her face.

They leave. And Snape is shaking with fury.

* * *

_~worse~_

* * *

Sirius sits on the Astronomy tower, tears falling down his face, smoke stirring in his chest. He turns to face his darling brother, and smiles through the sorrow.

Because smiling during the hard times, if not lifting your spirit, should at least comfort others.

Only, Regulus isn't ignorant, is he? No. He's a smart boy. And he sees straight through Sirius's façade, frowning at his brother. He reaches up and catches the crystal clear droplet. "Don't cry."

"H-how can I not?" the elder brother replies, passing the cigarette to his brother, and laughing softly when he's rebuffed. "It helps."

"You've said this before," Regulus tells him, "but I think you _need _it more than me."

Sirius shrugs and pops the cigarette back into his mouth, sucking deeply. It really does help. Almost like the fag absorbs all of the worry and sorrow bearing down on him escapes with the exhaled smoke.

It feels amazing.

He licks his lips and throws the roach to the ground. Before the pair of gorgeous, beautiful, stunning brothers, lies the whole night sky. Scotland is the perfect place for stargazing. With the stars and constellations stretching for the whole world to see, Sirius can name a few of them.

"Can you find me, Reg?" he asks.

The younger brother turns to him and smiles. "Do I even need to find you?" then he takes Sirius's hand and holds it tight. "You're the brightest, the hottest, the scorching dog star. You're the one that anyone and everyone can see."

Sirius closes his eyes. "I love you Reg."

"You too." The younger brother replies, squeezing Sirius's hand. "I love you too."

"Let's go," the elder one says. "My butt cheeks are freezing off. Besides, I wanna see if those bastards burnt my bed again."

"After having sex on Snape's bed, I highly doubt it." Regulus laughs, jumping up and dusting himself off. "Come on then."

Sirius smiles, watching his brother unlock the Astronomy tower door. "I'm right behind you Reg. I'll always be right behind you..."

Maybe it's just them, but when they look back at the stars for a last glance, it seems like the stars are shining just a little bit brighter.

* * *

_~brighter~_

* * *

**A/N: **I hope Sirius seems well characterised, and I have made him seem girly or whatever. This might be the last chapter of **Part One **or the penultimate one.

Please review!

Have a fantastic day! :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer; **I don't own Harry Potter, just the OCs and the plot of this story, unfortunately.

Beta'ed by Dragon Silhouette!

* * *

**Part Two**

**Progression**

_xoxo_

* * *

Potions.

It's his first lesson of the year today, because, you know, Sirius is a badass and has bunked all of yesterday's lessons. But now he has double Potions, and what takes the piss is how _all _of the Marauders do it; yes, even Remus, who knows he's bollocks at practical but who gets about a hundred percent in the theory, as well as Peter, who can't stir a cauldron for crap.

Sirius looks in the mirror, carefully musing his hair and unbuttoning the first few buttons of the white shirt beneath his robes. He does have to look cool, after all. He might be a Slytherin, but he still needs to retain his dignity. Even though he's let some of it go by leaving Gryffindor.

Sending a scathing look at Snape and Avery gathering their schoolbooks half way across the room, Sirius's gently cocked eyebrow simply _dares _them to say or do anything. They don't. He can now safely say they're scared of him. Well, Snape's not scared, just more subdued.

There's a knock on the door and Regulus sticks his head from the gap in the doorway. "Hey guys," he says to Snape and Avery, who nod at him, "Sirius," he calls, "mother has sent you another letter. It came in the middle of the night with my letter."

"She's speaking to me quite a lot now. What's it about this time?" Sirius asks bitterly, throwing his very expensive dragon-hide satchel over his body. He grins as widely as he can at his brother before he snatches his smokes from the cabinet beside his bed, tucks a fag behind his ear and waves at Avery and Snape. "I'll see you guys in Potions." Then he laughs at them and leaves with Regulus.

_Oh Lord, does he hate them..._

"You don't need to antagonise them, you know," Regulus scolds, shaking his head and laughing at the same time.

Sirius, who is too busy trying to light his cigarette in the chilly courtyard they're walking through with his thumb and his fore finger, calls out triumphantly when he succeeds. He inhales, says "finally" in a deep voice, and winks at some girls sitting and eating their breakfast in the courtyard.

"I can do whatever I please." Sirius says aloofly when he turns back to face Regulus a moment later. "You'd do well to remember Reg, how much I've done for you."

That shuts the younger brother up, who bites his lip and hesitantly runs a hand through his hair. The thing is he _does _remember, ever so vividly, just how much his brother, in the past few months, has done for him. And it hurts him to know that Sirius has thrown everything away for him; who he is, his identity, his friends...

Regulus doesn't think he'll ever, in all the decades he'll hopefully live through, forget what his brother has done for him.

Sirius sees the expression flickering over Regulus's face and he frowns deeply. "Sorry Reg, I shouldn't have said that—"

"So is this how every argument is going to end?" the younger brother's voice is very cold, and extremely disappointed. "You'll mention what you've done for me to get me to shut up."

"No, I didn't mean it..." Sirius protests, throwing an arm around Regulus; almost burning him with his cigarette and laughing when Regulus pushes him away. The courtyard is quite deserted at this time of the morning; when breakfast is being eaten and beverages being drunk.

But there are a few people walking through to have something nice to eat before lessons start in forty five minutes.

Sirius inhales more smoke, pouting his lips when he exhales and barking a loud laugh when his brother raises his fists and sends him a mischievous grin. "Come on then Sirius, let's see what you're made of..."

That's when _they_ walk past, stop and watch, but Sirius doesn't notice his old friends, too busy fixing his brother with a challenging smirk. "You really wanna wrestle with me, Reg?" he tosses his half-smoked fag and throws his satchel to the ground. "Come on then, little boy—" without even a warning, he pounces on his little brother, and they both chuckle when their punches land, as they furiously hit each other.

Then Regulus falls to the ground and admits defeat, just as James starts swearing loudly from somewhere in the distance.

"—no Remus, he's acting like nothing has fucking happened! He's ignoring us! It's been what, two days? And he hasn't even fucking said anything!"

Sirius turns from his brother on the floor, looks at his friends, his _old _friends, and freezes. "Guys." He manages to pant.

"_Black—_" James begins, but Sirius cuts him off swiftly, eyes smouldering; betraying the grief and sorrow he feels inside.

"No," the long haired teenager breathes, recoiling, "don't call me that, please..."

James laughs shortly, without a drop of humour. His voice is chilly, and though it's only September, to Sirius it feels as though January has come: cold, frosty and bitter, destroying each drop of happiness and warmth inside his body.

"_Don't call me that? _I can call you whatever I want. You betrayed us—"

"Come on Sirius," Regulus interrupts, sending James a livid glare and silencing the bespectacled elder boy with a furious look.

"Oh, you need your brother to stick up for you? Not tough enough to do it yourself, Sirius?" he's definitely the most hurt by this, Sirius concludes.

James is pissed as fuck.

Because of him. Because of the promise he has made to those evil, two headed, foul beasts in London. His parents; Walburga and Orion Black.

Regulus grabs Sirius by his arm and snatches the dragon-hide satchel from the cool green grass. When James shouts some profanities at them, the younger brother answers by simply sticking his middle finger up and shouting back, "Fuck off Potter."

The food tastes like cardboard. Sirius can't even taste it. He knows he eats some fruit and porridge, chomps down a croissant or two and gulps down three cups of coffee. But he can't even taste any of it.

"You shouldn't have spoken to James like that," his deep, soft husky voice whispers to his brother beside him. "I know you don't like James but he is, _was _my best friend ... but I love him."

"Well you can't." The other boy snaps, taking out his Fifth Year OWL timetable. "You're here with _me _now. D-don't ... don't you want to be with me?"

"'Course, mate." He throws an arm over his brother's shoulders, grabs another croissant and starts eating with feigned enthusiasm. Sirius pretends he can't feel the eyes of _the Marauders _burning into the side of his face from across the hall and consequently plasters a fake smile on his face.

The bell sounds through the hall, rippling like water, and sending tremors and sighs racking through the bodies of all the students, except maybe eager First Years, who don't mind lessons at all. At least, for now...

"I have ... for fuck's sake, Astronomy, and because it's the morning, we're going to be doing _theory_; how fun?" Regulus puts his timetable back into his bag. "What do you have?"

Sirius smiles blandly, with no emotion and no feeling whatsoever. The thing he's been dreading all morning has finally come.

He clears his throat. "Potions. With _them_..."

"You'll be fine." Regulus says slowly, as though he doesn't believe it too.

Plastering a fake and cheerful smile on his face, Sirius nods. He feels like all his smiles are fake now; put there to trick people, to make them think he's alright. When he's not. When he's _dying _inside. He's never felt so alone, and as much as Sirius adores his brother (look at all he's done for Regulus) it just isn't the same talking to him.

"Of course I will. If I can smoke without Slughorn noticing, then yeah, I reckon I could deal with it." He ruffles his brother's hair, gets his bag, and saunters out of the hall, not looking back and definitely not wanting to look back.

He's one of the first there, Sirius realises as he stops outside the locked Potions classroom. Slughorn, like he has been since First Year, is going to be late, based on the simply fact that their lesson is right after breakfast. Everyone knows the guy stays for an extra fifteen minutes licking his fingers, the plates, his lips and anything else in close proximity.

There are only three other people, coincidentally, all Slytherins. One Sirius knows to be Alexander Jackson, another with a name that rhymes with _Kidney _and Serena Yaxley.

He licks his lips. She's delicious to look at, but frigid and haughty: every fibre of her being just _screams _PUREBLOOD.

Sirius remembers his mother's insistence, after she found out about his little half-blood girlfriend, that he get together with Yaxley, claiming that she has "exquisite genes" and "a lot of money" and "a good family name".

He stands beside her, and after a startled moment, she looks up. Serena Yaxley is very pretty. She has blonde hair, gold in fact, and large dark blue eyes. But those eyes, right then, glare daggers at him. Sirius almost flinches. _Almost._ But he knows he needs to stay cool and collected. Nothing is more of a turn on, or so the girls tell him.

"Hello, Yaxley." He says, smiling brightly at her and winking.

"What do _you _want?" she groans; her voice melodic but curt nonetheless. Sirius just continues smiling at her and turns when he hears the sound of more students coming.

"Just wanted to say hello."

She rolls her eyes and looks away. When Slughorn approaches them, panting, he laughs loudly. "Sirius!" he cries.

"Professor," the younger boy replies politely. Some part of his brain is screaming, _"Please get me away from here..."_

"If it's no bother Sirius m'boy, pop 'round my office in the next few days. I'd like a word," the large bellied man wheezes, obviously having hurried down the stairs from the Great Hall.

"Of course Professor." The door opens and the class enters; people lagging and others rushing in. Potions is one of those subjects you either love or hate.

The Potions classroom is very large; with tables spaced out and cupboards and shelves filled to the brim with ingredients: elf ears, fairy wings, monkshood and so much more of the expensive ingredients.

"Good morning students!" Slughorn calls out happily, smiling at all of them when they chorus back, "Good morning Professor."

He waves his wand and the large blackboard flips over and moves nearer to where he stands. He conjures a piece of chalk and mutters a spell, the chalk moving on its own accord and writing out neatly the instructions for there double Potions lesson.

Everyone is still standing, not quite sure where they should sit. There are two other Sixth Year NEWT level Potions classes. In this class, there's Yaxley, Avery, him and Snape from Slytherin, only James, Lily and Remus from Gryffindor (which means that Peter must be in one of the other class), two from Hufflepuff and five from Ravenclaw.

"It's two or three to each table. Get out your cauldrons and ingredients whilst I do the register." Slughorn tells them, beaming at them all. His boisterous and cheery attitude can get awfully annoying sometimes ... all the time...

Before anyone can sit next to Yaxley, Sirius swoops in and throws his satchel down beside her, taking out his shrunken cauldron and growing it back to its natural size. He grins at her and her cheeks colour just a tiny bit.

"Can you not sit somewhere else?" she asks. "Why not with Lupin and Potter?"

The two Gryffindors from the other side of the dungeon look up at the sound of their names, but the Sirius and Yaxley don't notice.

"What? Not speaking to your best friends anymore?" Yaxley says coldly, her icy eyes flickering up to look at Sirius. He's not joking anymore, not smiling or laughing. He's clutching the strap of his bag resting on the table very hard. He turns to face her, and Serena Yaxley shivers. He's livid.

"Shut up, Yaxley." He murmurs so quietly only she can hear him.

Plastering her face with a superior and rather commanding expression, Yaxley tosses her hair back and loftily looks away. Sirius looks up just as Remus and James are looking away. Their eyes meet and he hesitantly nods at them. They don't even nod back.

Slughorn starts talking, and with a hefty sigh, Sirius turns his body and full attention to Slughorn. "... incredibly hard potion, because you are all the students who received an Outstanding grade in either the practical or the theory OWL of Potions, and in the cases of Mr Snape, Miss Evans and all of you Ravenclaws, you received Outstanding in both."

Evans, the annoying wench, Sirius thinks, starts grinning widely at Slughorn, who sends a wink to her. Sirius is concerned for a second that maybe Slughorn fancies Evans...

"Right, so, I've got a vial here of the potion we'll be brewing today. We'll spend the next few lessons brewing it. Anyone want to have a guess what's inside?"

Slughorn holds up a clear vial, very small, of a transparent potion. "It's colourless and has no smell..." the old man hints softly, looking around the class.

Sirius hears from behind him Snape mutter to Avery, "Veritaserum," almost lazily.

Lily answers the question seconds later, "Veritaserum. The Truth Potion, powerful enough to have the drinker spilling their deepest darkest secrets with only two drops."

"Well done, Miss Evans! Fifteen points to Gryffindor. Now, who knows how long it takes to brew Veritaserum?"

Surprising himself, Sirius's hand goes up, and an eager Slughorn calls on him. "Usually ten to fourteen days, depending on the skill of the person brewing the potion."

The Potions professor nods, "Correct Mr Black, ten points. We'll be spending the next few lessons writing about the properties of the potion and brewing it, that way we'll be practising our theory skills as well as our practical skills. I've also got some exam questions to hand out for homework..."

He sure does know how to drone on. Within fifteen minutes, everyone's set up and already simmering their Skewer leaves in warming water. Sirius is glad this is a class for the higher, smarter students. He hates when they have to wait as a class for the slower students to get up to where they are before restarting their potions.

Sirius chances a glance at Yaxley, just when she chances one at him. Their eyes meet and she glares at him before looking away. He decides to play around, having a minute to kill before he needs to stir his potion and add some Lacewing powder.

"Got a boyfriend, Yaxley?"

Clearly flabbergasted by this, she releases her ladle all together and turns to face Sirius. "What?"

"I said," Sirius laughs internally when her eyes widen, "have you got a boyfriend?"

"Go away." She snaps after a long pause. "It's none of your business."

They're silent for a moment whilst they fix their potions. The mostly translucent liquid turns dark red when Sirius adds the Lacewing powder. He stirs it and adds just a tiny bit of clipped Hippogriff talons; not supposed to add them for at least another two days, but knowing that it'll make his Veritaserum brew faster, and make it even stronger.

Slughorn comes over, takes a whiff of Sirius's potion and nods enthusiastically. "Very well done, Sirius. I think you're even further along than Lily."

Sirius can feel her emerald eyes boring into the side of his face, but he ignores her and looks down at Professor Slughorn; the man over two inches shorter. "Thank you Professor."

"Say, Sirius, I got a letter from your mother you know, she seems just as chuffed as I am that you're in Slytherin..."

All that's racing through Sirius's mind is _shut up, Sluggy, just shut it! _But of course, he doesn't say it.

"Really?" Of course she'll sound more "chuffed" that he's in Slytherin, but he doesn't say anything, just "Really?".

"Hmm, yes. She asked me in the letter to keep an eye on you and Regulus. I sent back a letter saying that Regulus won't be a problem, but you however..." the elder man cackles and sends Sirius a look that means _laugh boy, laugh! _So Sirius does.

"I promise to be good this year, Professor." He's gritting his teeth whilst he speaks, but manages to hold in the all-consuming anger. He has to be good anyway, and if he didn't have to be good, he doesn't have the Marauders, so there's no one to mess around with regardless.

Slughorn doesn't notice. "Now, I've wanted to ask you for a while about the Slug Club. What with your re-sorting and everything, would you be interested in coming? You've been turning me down after that incident in your First Year."

The younger student blushes brightly and actually manages a real laugh this time. "I'll think about it, Professor." He pretends he doesn't notice the slightly disappointed smile he's given by his professor.

He remembers the memory of his first Slug Club meeting as though it were yesterday. He decided in his Second Year to see what all the fuss was about. Admittedly, one of the Slytherins (Sirius still stubbornly believes it's either Snape or the Head Boy at the time, Malfoy) vanished everything little eleven year old Sirius wore at the meeting.

Yes, he was naked, and given two weeks detention when he beat Snape up.

"Oh, and Sirius, Quidditch tryouts are tomorrow."

_Quidditch._

Sirius is ... _was _the leading beater for Gryffindor. Only, now he isn't in the House of Red and Gold anymore. So, it's logical for him to become Slytherin's beater, right? Because he's a fucking amazing beater! One of the best, Elijah Mulciber being the other incredible beater.

So imagine if they work _together? _They'll be unbeatable!

But isn't that blasphemous and traitorous? Won't he be betraying Gryffindor for the snakes?

"Yes ... about that..." Sirius begins, but Slughorn interrupts him.

"Now, I know you might now be comfortable playing against your old house Sirius," _way to make things awkward, _"but you and Elijah together will be incredible! The best pair of beaters Hogwarts will have seen in decades. You have to tryout."

Everyone is listening now, potions abandoned. Sirius is receiving mixed signals; some that feel like they're urging him to say yes, whereas others are murderous and hateful, daring him to say yes.

"I-I'll ..."

_Come on Sirius, you love Quidditch. After everything you're giving up, is it really fair for you to give up that one special little thing too?_

"Oh, alright. But who knows, I might not even get in. I hear Mulciber's the captain." He adds hastily at the end.

"Don't you worry," Slughorn jokes, elbowing Sirius, whose head is bowed whilst he works on his potion. "If Elijah wants to win this year, then I'm sure you'll get in."

Finally, after what feels like hours, Slughorn leaves. Sirius's head smacks to the table with a groan, and he keeps his eyes closed as he shakes his head. "Fuck..."

If he gets on the team, his future with his friends is over _forever_...

"Be careful!" Yaxley scolds, moving his cauldron away from his head, and the stand it's sitting on. "You're gonna burn yourself."

He ignores her, and continues to half sleep for the rest of the lesson, his potion already well ahead of some people. And though she pretends she isn't doing anything, Sirius can see out of the corner of his eye Yaxley stirring his potion for him and adding the necessary ingredients.

The lesson ends, and he sweeps his things into his bag, banishes his cauldron onto the shelves for Sixth Years and murmurs a soft "Thank you" to Yaxley before leaving.

* * *

_~pain~_

* * *

The broom is a present from James. The latest and the fastest broom of the century, Sirius has a Nimbus Silver. It's a very beautiful broom; silver writing scrawled on the handle, and the tips of the end charmed a metallic grey.

Sirius trudges through the enormous Quidditch pitch, over twenty minutes late, thanks to his latest love interest, broom over one shoulder and his own beaters' bat in the other hand.

Elijah Mulciber is the Quidditch captain, and is currently making all the players tryout. Sirius quite likes this part of the tryouts. He thoroughly enjoys the adrenaline he feels at having to claim and fight for his title each year, the possibility of competing against someone better than him _each year, _and finding out he's done enough to get through yet again.

The stands closest to the pitch are filled with students from all houses, and even a few teachers just to make sure things are kept clean. Sirius's eyes are a stormy deep grey, just like the darkening sky. And when his eyes are dark, it means he's not fucking about. Not even a little bit.

"You're late Black, piss off," Mulciber calls.

Sirius barges him roughly as he walks by and barely has the strength to restrain himself from punching Mulciber when he is grabbed by the arm and pulled back.

"Get off me Mulciber," Sirius says, as he ties his hair up in a miniature ponytail, "judge me _after _I tryout you prat." Even though it's the seekers' turn for trials, Sirius releases the bludgers from their crates and they go shooting in the air at the five or six people trying out.

He doesn't even wait, instead jumping on his broom and shooting off into the air, his beater's bat tight in both hands. Sirius swings it, deflecting bludger after bludger pelting at the Slytherins.

Sirius doesn't even get to exchange a wink at his brother, who is lazily seated on his broom, the snitch in his hand. He winks at Sirius, releases the snitch and waits for it to get far enough away before he dives after it.

The Black brothers don't know how long they're flying for; ten minutes, fifteen, twenty. But sometime during their tryout, Mulciber conjures the dummies and props them in the air. Sirius really is quite good; with four bludgers dancing through the sky, testing him and his reactions and his instincts, not once do any of the potential seekers get hit, nor do the dummies.

He's stolen the show; weaving through the potential seekers (what's he kidding, no one is going to beat Regulus) and the dummies, roaring as he smashes yet another bludger and laughing triumphantly.

Finally, Mulciber is calling him down. He's exhausted.

"Oi, Black!" the captain shouts.

Sirius gets out his wand, immobilises the bludgers, and descends to meet the captain. Regulus comes down too.

"Regulus, you made the team, but you probably already knew that," the brown-haired captain laughs, high-fiving the seeker.

"Yeah, I did know that," he laughs. Then he sends his brother a glance. "What about Sirius?"

Mulciber bites his lip and shrugs, "Well, I never got to tryout the other beaters, so I'm not sure if he's the best—"

"Come off it," Sirius snaps, letting his hair down and throwing his broom over his shoulder. "You know there's no one else in the school as good as me."

"Apart from me." Elijah Mulciber says.

With a quirk of his lips, Sirius smiles blandly. "Maybe ... maybe not. So, I'll see you next week for the first practise, yeah? Thanks, Mulciber." And he walks off, not noticing the Gryffindors glaring at him from the stands, not noticing his _old _friends muttering hatefully about him.

Instead, Sirius simply walks, running a hand through his mused hair and smiling at his little brother when he turns to find him walking on his left.

"Wanna grab some supper?" Sirius suggests, pulling a leaf out of Regulus's messy black hair.

"Dinner's over."

Sirius almost forgets that Regulus doesn't know all the secrets about Hogwarts like him. Well, it's time to rectify such a terrible mistake; Sirius simply cannot have a younger brother who doesn't know Hogwarts like him. "Have I ever told you about the portrait of a fruit bowl near..?"

* * *

_~bonding~_

* * *

Sirius looks out of the window at the moon, it's a few days from being full. Two days to be exact. And Sirius still doesn't know what he's going to do. Is he going to accompany them? Go with them like a good friend; take care of Remus like a _true _friend?

Because once upon a time, Sirius was a good friend. He isn't now, but he _was _to them. Coincidentally, he wasn't a very good brother to Regulus, and now he is.

Oh, it's all tedious and confusing.

But the big question, the most important one, is _what shall Sirius do? _Be there for Remus? Because they made an oath once upon a time; the Marauders' Oath.

And he can't break it, he just can't, especially after breaking it at the end of Fifth Year. The Marauders' Oath is a blood promise made in First Year, and as silly as it sounds, it is much more powerful than any of them knew.

Sirius takes out his deck of cigarettes and plies one out, popping it into his mouth and with a click of his long thin fingers, lights it. He doesn't hear Mulciber come into the dormitory until his voice interrupts Sirius's reverie.

He jumps a little and whisks around from his seat on the windowpane. The windows are not real; what with Sirius's new house being completely underground in the dungeons. But they do reveal the real night's sky, with all its stars and clouds.

He looks up at Elijah Mulciber and nods, tapping his fag and flicking the ash off, where it flutters and lands on Snape's pillow. Sirius inhales the fumes again and sighs softly.

"They're bad for you," Mulciber is saying, but nonetheless, he's taken one from Sirius's cigarettes and put it into his mouth. "You're on the team."

Sirius, for the first time in history, actually _smiles _at Mulciber. "Can't say I'm surprised. I am the best."

"No, I am."

The dark haired boy bites his lip to stop from laughing. "That's gonna cost you," he says. "I only have four left to last me for the rest of the week."

They both inhale and exhale at the same time, the awkwardness in the room slowly ebbing away to be replaced by companionable silence.

Mulciber is a tall boy and one of the eldest in the year, born right at the beginning of September. He has light brown hair and dark striking eyes. Like most purebloods, his features are sharp and prominent, but unlike Sirius, he doesn't quite possess the aristocratic and delicate cheekbones and jaw. Regardless, he is still very handsome.

Sirius has never really liked Mulciber, but maybe he's wrong. So far, it's been almost two days and they haven't hit each other once.

"Why are you here, Black?" Mulciber asks suddenly, his voice careful but pressing.

Sirius swallows and doesn't answer immediately, instead looking out of the large charmed window, showing the night's sky. Then he looks back at Mulciber and frowns. "It's a long story."

"I have time," replies Mulciber. He sits beside Sirius, at least two feet between them. And though lies spew out of Sirius's mouth, seeing as he can't _possibly _tell Mulciber why he's really moved houses, it is still nice to be able to talk to someone, because under all the lies and false fabrications, Sirius's real feelings shine through.

And he desperately wants someone to talk to, someone that isn't Regulus.

* * *

**A/N: **I hope you've liked this chapter!

Please review! Merry late Christmas xo


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **I'm quite proud of this chapter, it's packed with action.

Beta'ed by the very kind Dragon Silhouette.

* * *

**Part Two**

**Progression**

_xoxo_

* * *

Mulciber is the total opposite of what Sirius first assumed. He's actually _funny. _Who knew? A Slytherin other than Regulus being funny? And he's not too bad; he does, after all throw Sirius three sickles for the cigarette and suggests they play a game of chess, even though they should probably be doing some homework.

And Mulciber laughs with him, and makes crude jokes about the provocative scene they barged in on the other day of Sirius with a girl. They do snap at each other once or twice in the conversation, when Mulciber offhandedly says, "With the team I've gotten together for this year, we'll beat all those Mudbloods and dirty halfers."

_Halfers, Mudbloods ... Sirius remembers when he used to call half-bloods and muggleborns the same thing._

And so, it's quite natural for Sirius to respond, "I'd rather be a halfer than be as inbred as all us purebloods are."

He knows what he needs to do. Take things slowly. He needs to show them he's changing instead of miraculously transforming from a blood traitor Muggle-lover to a pureblood supremacist. It just isn't logical, and definitely not realistic enough.

"You know they were holding you back, right?" Mulciber says, twisting the board so he has the white side. Sirius laughs at how ironic it is to see a Death Eater in the making choosing the white side, the _light _side...

Gritting his teeth, Sirius struggles to compose his face. He nods. "I know." Whilst he says this, his mind flickers to what he's going to do on the full moon. Choose his friends, just for one night, or abandon them completely. He can't do that! They've done so much for him. And after going through three years trying to become Animagi so they could help Remus, he's going to stay true to his promise.

Yes. He's going to turn up at the Shrieking Shack, damn to consequences, and be there with his friends. _Just for one night._

"Did you see the Daily Prophet today?" asks Mulciber, moving his pawn and taking Sirius's.

"No, why?"

"Your cousin's husband, he might be thought to have participated in the killings of three Muggles."

Sirius's eyes widen and he looks up at Mulciber, _Elijah_, and shakes his head. "You're joking. Bellatrix's husband Rodolphus?" he says, in shock. "You're joking, you've got to be. They're not stupid enough to do that."

"Stupid, or brave?" Mulciber challenges. "I agree a little bit though, they shouldn't have killed the eleven year old girl."

_An eleven year old? Sirius had to become apart of this?_

"Yeah, he replies, "they shouldn't have." His voice is cold, all humour from their earlier conversations gone.

"Come off it Sirius, the parents deserved it..." The boy in question doesn't hear the rest of what Mulciber is saying because he's too preoccupied with the fact that the Slytherin has called him Sirius. If by Christmas, Sirius has everyone at least treating him like a Slytherin, then things should go the plan. Or, as Dumbledore says, everyone should regard him as an equal now; they will tell him things, show him things, possibly ask him to do things – and he has to say yes.

He _has_ to do it.

"Checkmate," Mulciber says sometime later, and Sirius actually starts laughing a real laugh. Mulciber – Sirius really needs to start calling him Elijah – is one sneaky little bastard. Sly, cunning – everything Slytherins are.

"You sneaky little bastard," Sirius voices just as the dormitory door opens and Regulus enters. He sees Sirius and Elijah sitting on the bed, a chessboard between them, when he breaks into a wide grin.

Sirius knows what that grin means.

_Oh! Look at you, talking and joking with a Slytherin! You thought you wouldn't have any friends, Sirius; you thought you wouldn't have anyone to talk to here. But you do!_

"What are you guys doing?" Regulus asks, sitting on his brother's bed (he can pinpoint it solely on the mess it's in, and of course the red and gold brush on the cabinet beside it) and summoning a butterbeer from the crate Mulciber has under his bed.

Sirius starts laughing. "Why have you got a crate of butterbeer under your bed?"

"Got one of firewhiskey too, but that's for special occasions." He winks at Regulus, who starts laughing.

"I feel sort of bad for all those little kids trying out for the seeker position," Regulus says. "They were so hopeful. Couldn't stand a chance against me though..."

"I reckon I could," Sirius tells him. He looks out of the charmed windows and bites his lip. It's close to the full moon, and Remus, on top of Sirius's betrayal, is going to hurt. Right now, his muscles will be aching, his eyes strained and red; he'll be snappier, curter, sharper.

Merlin, Sirius loves Moony. James is, was, more like his brother; his twin brother. They finished each others sentences, created mastermind plans of Slytherin destruction, went on long road trips without either of their parents knowing, and most importantly; they were there for each other. Yes, James was Sirius's brother.

But Remus was his best friend. Only, now, Sirius hasn't got any friends. Just Regulus ... and maybe Mulciber. How can he go from being the most illegible, most sought after male in Hogwarts, friends with all, to being perhaps one of the most condemned and disliked boys.

Girls still fancied him, yes, but most of them weren't throwing themselves at Sirius anymore. Throwing dirty looks, maybe.

He feels so alone, as much as he tells Regulus that he doesn't.

"Too tall, not light enough, too aggressive, prone to get distracted ... would you like me to carry on?" the younger brother says playfully, dodging a rolled up sock Sirius throws at him.

"Who wants to be a seeker anyway? You're useless for most of the match. Beaters however..."

"Oi," Elijah calls out, "stop disheartening my seeker. Otherwise I'll bench you." Then he smiles widely, and it's not unlike the handsome smiles Sirius gives people once in a while. "Merlin, I don't think I'll ever get used to saying that. Makes me feel ... powerful..." He throws Sirius a butterbeer and cracks his own open, draining half of it in one long gulp.

"You're alright," Sirius says to Mulciber. "Thought you'd be a prick."

"Hmm? I thought ... _think _... well, you are still a prick."

The long-haired sixth year simply answers by sticking his middle finger up. The door is thrown open and in enter Snape, Macnair and Avery. They stop for a second, appraising the snug scene on Sirius and Regulus perched on one bed and Elijah Mulciber sitting on the opposite bed, laughing with them.

"Oh." Snape is the first to speak, ever the witty one. "I think we've interrupted on a rather intimate scene, wouldn't you say, Avery?"

Avery cocked a delicate light blond eyebrow up and nods vehemently. "Definitely."

Without even looking, Mulciber tosses his friend Avery a can of butterbeer. "Shut up, Tommy."

"Don't call me that!" Avery snaps sharply, but cracks open the bottle and laughs anyway.

"So your mummy can call you that, but I can't?"

Avery shakes his head. "No, not really."

Sirius is starting to discover just how normal and ... and ordinary the Slytherins (save Snape maybe) are. They joke around, play-fight, or rather, play-_duel, _and most importantly, they hurt, just as much as non-Slytherins do. Only, the Slytherins hide it better; they make sure no one can see their tears.

No one that _isn't a Slytherin _and even then, they make sure their comrades don't usually see.

It's all mind-numbing and confusing, but it's something Sirius needs to remember. He used to be like this; cold and too proud to show emotion to outside observers.

The Marauders broke down the barriers though, and Sirius is annoyed to find out that he needs to rebuild them.

"So, Black, what the fuck are you doing here?" Macnair, ever the stupid one, spits.

"Blind as well as stupid? Hmm, interesting," Sirius replies nonchalantly, still lounging arrogantly on his bed. "I was re-sorted, Macnair, into Slytherin." He speaks slowly, knowing it'll irk Macnair up the wrong way.

It works.

"I fucking know that you idiot."

"Bit rich, calling me an idiot. Have you _not _looked in the mirror?" Before Sirius knows it, him, Mul—_Elijah _and Regulus are all laughing. Avery stifles his very unmanly giggles but glares at Sirius nonetheless.

"He's here because he knows he belongs here, happy?" Regulus says sometime later, swiping his brother's butterbeer when his finishes and gulping it down.

"You sure you belong here, Black?" It's Snape talking this time, voice soft and almost serpentine. "You've spent an awful amount of time trying to make the lives of Slytherins _hell_. And now you're suddenly here with us? I don't believe it for a second."

"No one's asking _you_ to believe me, idiot. I couldn't give a flying fuck if you ran around telling everyone this is a prank or whatever. As long as I'm here and my parents _finally _get off my fucking back, that's all that matters."

The room is deadly quiet, as everyone waits for Sirius's explosive anger to resurface. But it doesn't. He's realised since the fight with the Slytherins a few days ago that he can't use anger and violence against the Slytherins, at least, not proper violence; maybe a shove or a hex once in a while – but mainly, how is he to get them on his side if he bullies them?

Snape scoffs and looks away, and their disagreement is left at that. Half an hour later, Sirius is in the common room with his brother, laughing and joking, and most importantly, trying ever so hard to finish his Charms essay and his Astronomy chart for tomorrow.

* * *

_~promises~_

* * *

The Marauders' Oath; written in Remus's neat calligraphy and decorated with Peter's girly but very pretty designs on the corners. It's a promise they all made during their Second Year, after they discovered Remus's ... furry little problem after Christmas.

Sirius remembers the day they vowed to always be there for one another; to never abandon one another, to never purposely harm or endanger a Marauder, and most importantly, to never _betray_ each other.

They strengthened the link in their Fourth Year when they placed charms which attack the body (in this case, hives appear on one's chest) if any of the promises are broken. Sirius knows that deep down he hasn't betrayed them, or rather, the charms they used to reinforce the Marauders' Oath in Fourth Year don't think he's really betrayed them. But that doesn't matter, because they think he's betrayed them.

He closes his eyes and thinks back to the day they made the blood promise, in Second Year. It's a bittersweet memory.

* * *

_~The Marauders' Oath~_

* * *

The room is tense. Remus is sitting on his bed, watery eyes drawn to his clasped fists, lips quivering and cheeks flushed.

He's a small thing; already, Sirius and James are getting taller, thicker and just a little bit more masculine. But Remus is still the same small, timid thing. His dark blondish brown hair is mused gently, his golden eyes red and moist with tears, darting from each _friend_ standing before him. They linger on Sirius just a fraction longer.

Sirius, the one who worked out the whole Werewolf Riddle; Sirius, the one who befriended Remus _first_...

"You g-guys d-d-don't care?" he stutters.

"No," Sirius breathes, crouching down and taking Remus's hand. "Care? Why on earth would we?"

"B-because I'm a m-monster—"

"You're _not_ though!" It's James this time, shouting and shaking his head so hard his glasses almost fall from his face. "You're kind and patient and _so much nicer_ than half the Slytherins."

"You help me all the time!" Peter squeaks, simply throwing in something to say because he hates being left out and he always wants to impress James, Sirius and Remus.

"I-I'm d-dangerous." Tears are falling down Remus's face now. He looks so delicate...

Sirius shakes his head and some sort of growl slips out of his mouth. "Dammit, Remus. You're not. You're really not. You're the one who tries to stop us from hexing Slytherins, you're the one who breaks up our fights ... you ... you are _not_ ... never _could be_ dangerous..."

James throws an arm around Sirius's shoulders. "Well said."

"You're really n-not joking?"

"Would we ever do that to you?" James says softly. "We care about you Rem-pie, you know that—"

"Rem-pie?" Sirius exclaims loudly. "How dare you steal my nickname for him? Take it back, you foul evil loathsome cockroach!" And before James can even comprehend what's going on, he's receiving a face-full of Sirius. They're rolling around on the floor, fists colliding with jaws, knees poking thighs and laughter echoing all around them.

Remus wraps his arms around himself, as if to stop his heart from bursting out. He's never felt more loved, more cared for; he feels like he _belongs_...

When Sirius and James stop their aggressive antics and the frightened glances Peter sends Remus have stopped, the werewolf asks the question that's been on his mind since Sirius confronted him that morning.

"A-are you guys going to tell anyone?"

Stubbornly shaking his head, James comes to sit beside Remus. He throws an arm around the smaller boy's shoulders and says clearly, "We'd rather die."

"Rather die a painful and long drawn out death," Sirius adds, a small smile marring his otherwise stoic and rigid expression, "than tell anyone."

"T-thank you," chokes Remus, fresh tears springing into his eyes. "Y-you guys are a-a-amazing and k-kind and w-wonderful a-and—"

"We're not anything Remus; we're just being your friends," James says, and then Sirius, before anymore can be said, throws his arms around Remus's shoulders and hugs him tight, laughing that glorious laugh of his.

"Alright, you pouf, get off him," James says from somewhere in the background. "Now," James is saying, waving his wand and conjuring his razor from the bathroom. All the Marauders have razors, and pretend to themselves as well as others that they have chin hairs to shave; more like _nonexistent_ chin hairs.

He takes the blade from the razor and presses it against his thumb. "Let's make a promise..."

"What are you doing?" cries Remus, standing up for the first time this evening.

"A blood promise," James says, smiling. "I read some crackpot Muggle play the other day whilst I was in detention, and Slughorn explained some crap about how Muggles believe it brings them closer."

"So you think we should do it? Awesome," Sirius shouts and he snatches the blade out of James's fingers, slicing open the bespectacled Marauder's thumb and proceeding to do the same to his own.

"Oww!" James exclaims, lifting his thumb to his lips and stopping. "Oh yeah."

"Come on Rem-pie, Pesty Pete, I've done my thumb, now let me—" Sirius begins, but Remus takes the blade off of him and cuts his own thumb.

"Like I'd trust you with a small razor and my finger," he scoffs, collecting a bead of crimson liquid and smiling patiently at them.

"—_grow_ up; I can do it for you, if you want..." James is saying to Peter in quiet tones, and like Sirius had done to James, he takes the small razor blade from Remus and cuts open Peter's finger.

Not his thumb, his _finger_.

"Ow!" Peter cries out, cradling his hand.

"Stop being such a pansy," spits Sirius dismissively, then he turns to James and his face relaxes. "Did that crackpot Muggle play tell you that it's required to do it on the thumb, or does it matter?"

"I don't think it matters." But regardless, James worries his bottom lip. Ah well, it's Peter. Even if the Oath doesn't work, it's not like Peter will ever betray them or anything. "Anyway, we're off the point. We're all cut, yes?"

"Yes, James," the other three chorus. It's times like these when James feels like he's the ringleader. But then, it can also be said that Sirius can feel like the head of them when he's talking about girls and Muggle things and money.

And Remus about homework, academic stuff really. As for Peter ... we can come back to that...

"Okay, now, in the play, the two hare-brained Muggles pressed their cuts together, and made their promises. I think we should do that now." James sticks out his red thumb (red from blood and from exertion) and sticks it between the four of them. They've subconsciously formed a circle, holes in some places and gaps in others, but the sentiment is the same.

They're united, joined, together... for now...

Sirius touches his own sliced thumb to James's, still leaving space for the other two to place their thumb/finger.

Remus and Peter simultaneously press their thumbs together, and a content sigh runs through the group of four, the soon-to-be Marauders.

It's like the magic is showing them _just how special_ their friendship is. It buzzes in the air and almost sets a halo of light around them, but they're too young and easily distracted to notice such a triviality like the power of blood and loyalty.

James starts them off. "I pledge a promise to always be there for my three true friends."

Remus clears his throat. "I-I pledge a p-promise to never a-abandon my three true friends..."

"I pledge a promise to never harm my friends—"

"Pete," James interrupts, "it's 'my _three true _friends' you idiot!"

"T-to n-never harm my three t-true friends." He stutters in a scared voice.

All eyes fall to Sirius, patient and waiting for the final promise, the one to seal them. In typical Sirius Black fashion, he lets a smirk flicker across his face, and he clears his throat. His voice is husky but sincere when he says the last promise. "_I _promise, we all promise to never betray our three true friends."

The light evaporates, gone as quickly as it came. They take away their fingers, sticky and with dried blood. James subconsciously pops the wounded thumb back into his mouth and gags. "I just swallowed your blood, didn't I?" he says to his friends, spitting on the floor.

"Yes, Dracula James. Did it taste good?" the long-haired boy asks, batting his lashes.

"Pouf," James murmurs fondly. The throws himself on the closest bed (Remus's) and sighs. "We'll always be here for you Remus, you know."

The half-Italian boy is standing frozen in the middle of the room, staring down at his hand. He seems to not have heard James, but then he looks up and those molten gold eyes crinkle as he smiles. "I know. Thank you."

"No Remus, thank you," Sirius says from somewhere in the room.

"For what?" asks the werewolf.

He hears the sound of swallowing and looks up quickly when the scent of chocolate invades his nostrils. His movements stop and his eyes sharpen.

It's his Honeydukes slab of chocolate, saved only for when he's feeling very down or when he's craving it. With a roar, Remus leaps onto Sirius. It turns into a wrestling match, and then a full out pillow fight before Sirius concedes, snatches another block and returns the chocolate to its rightful owner.

"One day Remus," James begins, "one day we're going to get all of your chocolate and sell it. Reckon I could make a few hundred galleons."

Remus ignores him and simply pops a block in his mouth, not realising that Sirius never answered his question.

* * *

_~choices~_

* * *

Lessons blur by. Transfiguration is, to him, nothing but a few sad glances from the many Gryffindors taking the subject and a small smile from McGonagall. Flitwick in Charms is more reserved and therefore bearable but because he, unlike McGonagall, does not know about Sirius's predicament and he's therefore a little bit tougher and takes five points off Slytherin when Sirius is caught chatting to Elijah.

Elijah, Sirius realises, is a good way in to the whole plan of destroying Lord Voldemort. Elijah's in a high up, prestigious pureblood family with an uncle Death Eater as well as two first cousins (Sirius's distant cousins too).

He's also a Death Eater in the making, he comes to appreciate. It's from the snide comments he says about Muggleborns (_Mudbloods_, Sirius corrects himself) as well as the superior and hateful attitude he has towards Dumbledore and the Minister of Magic.

But genuinely, Sirius doesn't just hang around with Elijah Mulciber because he's a good way into the fold of Slytherins and Death Eaters.

Dumbledore keeps forgetting that Sirius is a boy and he has feelings. He just needs someone to talk to and Elijah_ is_ that someone. He's much cooler than Sirius thought he would be; he offers good banter and fun conversations (most of the time). He's nothing compared to James at all or Remus, but he's a friend and in this lonely forlorn atmosphere, Sirius desperately needs a friend.

The day is simply running past, and soon lessons are over and Sirius is changed into warm robes with all his homework out of the way, save some Charms research, but he can do that in the morning at breakfast.

He's hyperventilating; body thrumming and lips shaking. He's never been more scared in his life of his friends ... What if they beat him up? Curse or hex him? Kick him out?

Sirius has his hair in the _'cute little ponytail' _as James often teases him by saying, and is wearing his plain, reasonably priced, "Wolf Day" robes – reserved only for the full moon.

He has his wand in his back pocket and some bandages and healing potions in his pockets. He gets up from his bed and thumbs the Honeydukes packet he's holding for Remus. It's a ritual, and though he's broken a lot of things, there's no reason to break ceremony.

"Where are you going?" It's Thomas Avery. He's more reluctant than Elijah to open up to Sirius, but a little kinder than Macnair, Snape and the several other Sixth Year male Slytherins in the other dormitory.

Lie Sirius, come on, you're good at making up lies.

"I'm staying the night at Ramona's from Ravenclaw. She's put a bed in one of the larger store rooms. We're going to be having fun."

Avery despite himself laughs and nods at Sirius. "Go off then and have fun, Black. Not _too _much fun though. We have our first DADA practical tomorrow and I intend on Slytherin beating Gryffindor in the duels."

Sirius gives him thumbs up. "I promise, Tommy, I'll be in top notch form."

He takes his smaller, leather satchel from the floor, smiles at Avery and is about to leave when he remembers Regulus and Elijah. "If Reg or Mulciber ask about me, just tell them I'm with Ramona."

The walk to the Whomping Willow is an enthralling, suspenseful one. Or at least it feels that way. He's holding his breath for the duration of the walk, breathing as calmly as he can. He needs to relax.

_Relax, Sirius, relax! Get a hold of yourself, boy!_

He can't show his friends that he's scared of them. He needs to be brave, otherwise how is he ever going to pull this off? He's doing this for Remus. When Sirius arrives at the tall, towering magnificent Whomping Willow, he gulps.

_Hit the little knot, right?_ It takes about five minutes but by then, Sirius has a long magically constructed stick (it's really too dark to try and spot one) so he can attempt to poke the knot. Putting his beater skills to the test, he aims at where the knot should be and shoots as hard as he can frantically for several minutes before, with a triumphant shout, the Whomping Willow freezes but not before hitting him hard on the head with a thin branch.

Sirius rubs the spot on the back of his head and takes the stick with him as he slips into the small passage before he is finally running through the tunnel. It's long and dark and extremely narrow; he's never noticed just how narrow.

His elbows bang painfully against the walls, but maybe that's because he's sprinting. It seems like hours but in reality is only ten minutes, before he is finally in the Shrieking Shack. That's when Sirius freezes. He can already hear it, the growls, the sounds of hooves hitting the ground, squeaking.

Sirius swallows, closes his eyes and transforms into his Animagus form. It starts off as a tingling sensation at the balls of his feet, rushing up his body, past his spine, through the very tips of his fingers. And then he's suddenly a dog, faster than a blink of an eye.

He barks and the noises inside the main room stop for a second, to be replaced with angrier noises.

Padfoot head butts the door and it flies open, revealing the scene of a majestic stag trying to control a rabid, wild but very beautiful wolf. Moony stops and stares at Sirius, not believing his eyes.

It's best to always be submissive with Moony; to let him dictate what happens and choose where to go and what to do. Padfoot sinks the front half of his body down, waggling his bottom in the air and showing Moony where he so obviously belongs; below him.

This isn't good enough for the werewolf though, who leaps at the black shaggy dog, claws sharp and thrashing, enormous jaws dripping with saliva and golden eyes burning.

He swipes for Sirius and connects with the black dog's face, sending him crashing through the air and into the hastily repaired piano. Sirius whimpers, pathetic doggy cries slipping out of his mouth as he limps back into a corner. The room is dusty: with a badly fixed sofa, some mismatched tattered chair missing legs and chunks of wood.

This place, the Shrieking Shack, is Sirius's personal hell. He despises it, they all do. But it serves its purpose. That's all that matters, right?

Again and again, Padfoot is clawed, scratched, beaten, stepped on and thrown across the room into furniture. He gets up, barks playfully and adamantly tries to keep the wolf from biting itself, which happens once or twice when the dog Animagus is so injured it takes several minutes for him to get back up.

The sun takes a painstakingly long time to rise, and even during the early hours of the morning, the wolf doesn't care at all. Not one bit. He stills roars and aims to hurt the dog as much as the dog has hurt him. He wants to rip the dog up, the way their friendship has been shredded; he needs to sink his teeth into every inch of the furry black fur, just to distract himself from the emotional pain he's going through. The wolf doesn't quite understand what's happened; all he knows is Padfoot is the cause of the hurt, and Padfoot needs to pay.

Prongs, the regal stag, almost _grudgingly_ helps the very large and usually playful black dog escape the clutches of the dangerous werewolf. If there's one good thing coming out of the fight between the two canines, it's the fact that James hasn't got a single cut, not a single wound. But it's selfish to think in such a way, right?

When Sirius can potentially be _dying _from all the wounds he's receiving. What does he expect though? Turning up ten minutes into moonrise, knowing his friends are absolutely furious and expecting Remus's inner demon to be _gentle _with him?

He's really not as smart as he thinks he is.

Something canine and animalistic in Sirius snaps when he's thrown, for maybe the millionth time across the room into a hard piece of furniture, maybe a chair.

He starts snarling and growling, shocking Moony. The werewolf is still for one moment, golden fur glistening and dark bronze eyes glaring at Sirius. Then he launches himself at the dog, and Sirius isn't being submissive anymore; he's pushing the wolf off of him, striking back, roaring and barking as loud as he can.

Prongs tries to get between them several times, but when he sees that Sirius isn't causing much damage to the considerably larger wolf, he relaxes slightly.

The moon goes down, painstakingly slow. And soon, the only thing Moony the werewolf can think about is the pain of transforming back into a human. He hasn't got many major wounds, just a few cuts and scratches and a particularly worrying gash on his thigh.

They've seen Moony naked a lot before because of the full moon. At first he was very embarrassed and scared of the way he looks, but now he's come to accept it.

Remus is writhing on the floor, hair matted with blood that isn't his own, scratches on his chest that luckily were not made from him, and will soon fade. He's shaking.

"Padfoot," breathes Remus. James transforms back into his human form, as does Peter. They all crowd around the heavily injured and battered dog. Using all the strength Sirius possesses, he wills his body and mind to become that of his human form.

"No," Remus cries. Sirius is battered, bleeding profusely and writhing on the floor. His arm is sticking out at an odd angle; he's got splinters sticking out from his chest, and blood soaking him.

Moony beat Padfoot _baddd._

"It-it's o-ok-okay," the long haired boy pants. It's so cold. When did it get so _cold_?

"Why did you come?" shouts Remus, jumping up and not caring about his nakedness one bit.

"Y-you n-needed me?" it comes out as more of a question than a statement.

"Look at you!" Remus cries, "Look what I've done to you!"

Sirius can barely get himself up into a sitting position but he manages it. He pulls out his wand and vanishes his robes, until he's left only in a pair of black trousers. They all gasp. Bruises litter his pale skin, blood stains it, cuts mar it; he looks so beat up.

"I-I'm okay!" he exclaims after a shocked moment and conjuring some his satchel containing bandages, Healing Potions, Dittany.

"I'll do it," James huffs impatiently. He orders Sirius to lie down, which he does. Forgetting about Pomfrey, James takes his time dripping drops onto the deeper wounds; there's an abundance of them. Hissing but fighting to keep quiet, Sirius wills the tears in his eyes to go away. But they don't, they fall as hard as they can.

"Am I hurting you?" the bespectacled boy asks. His voice is gentler than Sirius has heard it being these past few weeks.

He shakes his head. "N-no."

"Pass me the bandages Moony ... Moony? Remus!"

Remus isn't listening though; he's too busy running a hand roughly through his hair and worrying his bottom lip. His other fist is balled up and resting on his thigh, as though he's trying to restrain himself from punching Sirius as hard as he can.

"You shouldn't have come!" the werewolf cries. "This is what happens! Did you expect the wolf to be _happy _you were here? The wolf was furious! I'm fucking furious! I could have k-killed you, Sirius!"

"But y-you're okay. Better than e-ever!" The vehemence in Sirius's voice is drowned out by the involuntary stuttering.

Remus shakes his head, whispering, "And look at the cost of me being okay. I'm so sorry."

"D-don't." Sirius shakes his head, biting his lip to stop it from quivering. "You should _n-never_ apologise t-to me." He hisses sharply when James binds a wound on his arm tightly with a bandage.

"Take off your trousers," James says. "I'm pretty sure they're just as beat up. Anyway, I can't fix your arm, it seems broken. I've sealed all the cuts though."

"Thank you J-James."

They spent the remaining time healing Sirius, but even then, he still isn't fully healed.

And so a cycle begins. Even though that was the first full moon of Sixth Year, Sirius would soon come to join them once every twenty eight days. He'll be beaten up sometimes, not as bad as the first, but enough for him to be sore and burning and in dire need of a Healing Potion.

It's like he has his friends back, for one day a month. He's _Black_ out in the open, but behind closed doors he's _Padfoot_ and that's special to him.

* * *

_~sweet~_

* * *

The remaining Marauders are up in their room, hastily getting dressed. Remus is in the Hospital Wing with the young and very kind Madam Pomfrey. She's healing the little injuries he has and giving him Pain Draughts and Pepper-Up Potions. She's telling him maybe he's well enough to even attend afternoon lessons.

James however, whilst he's trying to knot his tie and put on his left shoe at the same time, cries in anger, "There's something up."

"With Sirius?" Peter says. "I know."

"Why would he put up with what Moony was doing to him? If he didn't care about us, he wouldn't do that. He wouldn't give a shit. But he does ... he has to ... if he's the Slytherin we all thought - think - he is, then he wouldn't have done this for us." James is running a hand through his hair nervously.

"What d'you mean?" asks Peter, finally locating his Charms essay and stuffing it in his bag.

"I mean," James hisses, "he has to care about the Marauders, everything we are. Otherwise he wouldn't have come. I don't think..." An ecstatic expression flickers across his face. "I don't think he purposely became a Slytherin. I think he was made. He still cares about us."

"I'm not sure James," Peter replies. "I mean, have you seen who he hangs out with now? His new best friend is _Mulciber_—"

"_No!_" shouts James, throwing his bag on the floor and pointing his finger very dangerously at Peter. "Mulciber isn't his new best friend." The bespectacled teenager's voice is cold now, tempestuous, like a storm, and incredibly dangerous. But even though it's dangerous, his voice shakes, as though he's trying very hard to restrain the pain he's going through from showing.

Peter shivers and apologises hastily. "_I'm _his best friend." James says softly a while afterwards, when they're hurrying into the Great Hall for a quick breakfast.

When Sirius limps into the hall a few minutes afterwards, favouring his left arm and veiling his slightly bruised face with his hair, he looks at the Gryffindor table, directly into James's hazel eyes and nods.

This time, _this _time, he gets a nod back.

Good things can come to those who wait, but the better things, the _best _things come to those who work for it. And James is going to work hard for his friendship with Sirius Black. Or rather, he's going to work hard to find out just _why _Sirius Black left Gryffindor, left the Marauders...

Left _him._

* * *

**A/N:** Sorry for the delay!

Thanks to everyone who followed, you are all amazing. And thanks to everyone who's continuing to follow and favourite. I hope you've all had a rockin' New Year, welcome to 2013.

Please review! They spur my typing and get quicker updates! :D xx


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **Thanks for all the reviews, favourites and follows. I really appreciate it. :)

This chapter is dedicated to hufflepuffloveforever.x who is so helpful!

**Disclaimer:** I'm really hoping by now that you all know I do _not _own Harry Potter in any way.

Beta'ed by Dragon Silhouette, thank you!

* * *

**Part Two**

**Progression**

_xoxo_

* * *

Quidditch practise is nothing Sirius imagined it would be like. He expects the Slytherins to be orderly, follow their captain's commands, but they're the total opposite. Joking around, setting each other little challenges, having pure fun.

This of course all takes place whilst Elijah is thinking things through and chatting quietly to his best friend, Thomas Avery.

They don't treat each other like best friends, if anything, Sirius at first believed them to not like each other. But it's just one of the weird quirks of their acquaintance. They swear and hit each other, even go as far as to _curse _one another for absolutely no reason.

"Alright," Mulciber says softly to Avery. And then he laughs when his blond friend slips on the mud and sticks his middle finger up in answer.

"Okay, everyone, settle down now and shut up." His voice carries, and surprisingly, is enough to get the Slytherins quiet and off their brooms. "Now, I know last practise I said I wasn't going to have a co-captain, but I've changed my mind. I've already elected the co-captain for this team, in case I'm ever injured or whatever and it's Black—"

"_What?_" echoes around the pitch.

Sirius can't keep the smile off of his face. He grins widely at everyone. "Hello there." He barely ducks the Stupefymaking its way over to him. "Now that's not very nice, Victoria."

"Shut up Black! Elijah! I've been on this team for _four _years! Since my Third Year. You can't possibly make him the fucking co-captain when he's been in Slytherin, for oh, I don't know, a month and a half!"

"Unfortunately," Elijah drawls, licking his lips, "Black's a better player than you. Not that you aren't fantastic, Vicki, but he thinks more like me."

"Is it because I'm a girl?" she hisses. All the other men on the pitch groan; preparing for the inevitable rant sure to follow. "I'm a girl and you think since I'm oh ... I don't know, _missing a penis, _that I can't lead a group. Because there have been hundreds of legendary witch leaders. Morgana for instance! Rowena Ravenclaw is another..."

"Here we go," Elijah murmurs next to Sirius. Victoria Edwards launches into her tirade, wasting fifteen valuable minutes of their time to prattle on about female rights and the legendary women of the Wizarding World.

It's amusing to Sirius, but not so much for the others.

"Okay Edwards, we get it, shut up now." Mulciber snaps impatiently after a while. She's shocked by this, groans and turns away angrily, tossing hair behind her. "I love women," he says to Sirius quietly and they laugh.

Sirius genuinely likes Elijah now. He's a mixture of Remus and James and something a whole lot darker, a whole lot more _Sirius. _He can never replace them, but he's a friend now. An actual _friend._

"Okay, let's get training. Now, as you all know, we have a match in a few weeks, as I've been telling you for ages. Last practise was awful on your part, chasers. So we're going to focus on you lot for today. Regulus, grab a beater's bat. You're not going to be a seeker today. Let's see if you've got some of your brother's magic."

Regulus ambles over and snatches a bat. "How hard can it be?" he says confidently.

He realises how hard it is forty five minutes later when he's nursing a bleeding nose and glaring at a cackling brother. No one will know just how _amazing _it is to have Sirius in the same house as him now. They're closer than ever, and moreover, Regulus knows that with his brother in the same house as him, his mother and father will finally stop picking on the elder brother and love him like they love Regulus.

Maybe love is a bit of a strong word, actually...

When the seven of them enter the changing rooms, Mulciber hugging Edwards in apology, they wash their muddy, sweaty bodies and don some clean fresh warm robes. What Regulus adores most about Quidditch practise is not the chance to fly on his broom, but instead, to fly with the six other teammates, and feel the sense of unity, of friendship and togetherness.

Maybe it's weird of him to think in such a way, but it's true. And with his elder brother on the same team as him now, he doesn't know anything he could enjoy more.

* * *

_~starting over~_

* * *

Sirius doesn't know what he hates more, Potions with the Gryffindors or Defence Against the Dark Arts with them. Probably DADA, just because he feels like he's betraying them each time he has to duel someone.

Professor Charlotte Hardy is very good at her job; she's fast, strong and most importantly, she knows what she's talking about, a bit of a change for them.

Today they're going to duel against each other _again._ Only, they're not choosing who they get to duel themselves. Professor Hardy is going to decide who is more equally matched with them.

Sirius has had the pleasure of duelling Marlene McKinnon so far; she's more sympathetic than the other Gryffindors, and is a very strong witch. She's pureblood too, so it doesn't arouse any suspicion from the Slytherins.

"Okay, I'm quite excited about this lesson. I'll be matching you against students you're more equally matched with, to push you through your limits and to test your full potential."

She pulls out a scroll, tosses some golden hair behind her and clears her throat. "There are too many Gryffindors, so I've decided to pair together Lily Evans and James Potter." Everyone hears Lily's annoyed growl as she puts her books away and sets her robe on her chair. She's muttering about how she's always the unlucky one, and she for once wishes there are more Slytherins in Hogwarts so she wouldn't have to be the only Gryffindor paired with another _arrogant hot-headed _Gryffindor.

James stands beside her, and for once he's not smiling brightly at the idea of being paired with Evans. He doesn't smile much anymore but then again, neither does Sirius or any of the other Marauders...

Such a false, betraying word. "Marlene McKinnon with Severus Snape." Hardy calls. Marlene is muttering under her breath but she stands to join Snape who has an equally bitter expression on her face.

Hardy calls out more people, pairing Elijah with Garrett from Gryffindor. Then it comes to Sirius. "Remus Lupin with Sirius Black," she says.

He groans. Sirius and Remus are very equally matched; watching them duel is always a fantastic event, exciting and vibrant as they come.

Their eyes meet and Sirius looks away, fighting the blush spreading across his cheeks. He ignores everyone watching, including James, Peter, Elijah and Avery. He moves to stand beside his old friend. They haven't spoken about that fateful first full moon and the other that he's attended. It's almost like the night of the full moon is one night where they're friends again and no one needs to know about it.

When Hardy finishes, she claps her hands together to grasp everyone's attention. "We've spent the past few lessons learning the eight most infamous duelling spells. Using them and your own knowledge, we're going to have two duels at the front for five minutes before we switch. The aim is to either get your opponent without their wand or unable to continue duelling."

If this had been a lesson from last year, Sirius surely would have enjoyed the lesson; shown off his skills and duelling dexterity. But now he's wishing he could be somewhere else.

"Up you come, Peter and Michael, you're first. On the other side of the room," as she says this she vanishes all the table and chairs so the room is large and empty, "I'll have ... Garrett and Elijah, come on."

It's interesting to say the least. Peter is frazzled as well as slightly befuddled, but he fights back well. He does after all have three Marauders as friends ... well, two now.

Sirius's head whips back and he looks at Elijah, who's barking laughs and shooting spells, some non-verbal and others extremely powerful. Garrett is a good match though, even though he's been put on the defence and is failing to gain the upper hand.

He does throw Elijah back across the room, smashing into a wall, but with a small flick of his wand, the brown haired Slytherin does the exact same, only this time, he shouts, "_Expelliarmus!_" and takes Garrett's wand.

Professor Hardy claps and grins at Elijah, "Five points to Gryffindor, ten to Slytherin."

Everyone turns to look at the duel between the Slytherin Michael and Peter.

Peter, who is getting annihilated. The five minutes are up though and Professor Hardy decides to put Peter out of his misery and tells both boys to sit down.

Many of the matches are cut short because the pairs are too evenly matched to beat each other in five minutes. When it's time for Evans and James to duel, no one pays attention to the other duel taking place between the Gryffindor Samantha Long, an ex of Sirius's, and Elizabeth Churchfield.

Not that the girls care anyway, because they soon stop duelling when they catch sight of Evans and James.

Evans is put on defence when James sends a string of complex, hard curses and hexes at her, throwing in a few of the eight compulsories. But she's not called one of the smartest witches for no reason; she's not as fast as James, but her spells are non-verbal and send James into a confused frenzy.

"_Expulso!_" James shouts, sending her staggering back, but he's countered with an "_Accio chair!_" Lily summons Professor Hardy's chair and sends it at James. He ducks, only getting hit on the head with the corner. He swears loudly and even the Professor can't stop laughing.

"Oww," he cries, before hissing "_Levicorpus!_" and suspending his "one true love" by the ankle from the ceiling. Lily screams and James starts freaking out. "I'm sorry!" he says, bringing her back down not too gently from the DADA classroom ceiling.

"I'm so sorry," he repeats, genuine fear written on his pouty face.

"That really hurt—"

He runs a hand through his hair. "I didn't mean to hurt you." He steps closer to her and frowns.

"You have really pretty eyes," Evans murmurs to him, smiling up at James. His face drops and his mouth opens and closes, like a fish. He's gaping still when she suddenly throws him across the room into the wall, before saying softly, "Expelliarmus."

His mahogany wand lands in her outstretched palm and she smirks, waving it at him. "You're such a wimp." Then without another word, she turns away and hands his wand to Peter.

Professor Hardy claps loudly. "Well done Lily, fifteen points. You demonstrated how easy it is for men to underestimate women. This is a good example of how powers of seduction, amongst other things, can lead to injuries or sometimes death even."

Evans smiles and sends James a look. He's still sitting on the ground, pouting angrily. He stands up and shakes hands with her. "I know I have pretty eyes."

Sirius barely restrains his laugh as many others around the room chuckle. But then the smile falls off his face when Hardy says, "Sirius, Remus, your turn." She's saved them for last, which means everyone will be watching.

He frowns and sends a look at Remus. "Come on Pad-ah, erm... Black."

Sirius quietly says to him, "Don't call me Black." They have the floor now, every eye on them, watching intently. It's no secret that Sirius and Remus are potentially the best duellers in their year, alongside Snape and James. But there's something about them.

They move like the duel is choreographed, twisting fractionally to miss a spell shooting towards them, lips barely moving as some non-verbals fly across the room.

"_Expulso!_" Sirius thinks, and surprisingly, this time, the spell connects. Remus flies across the room, but he doesn't land on his arse or his back; he lands on the balls of his feet.

Sirius watches him, in shock, for a long drawn out moment before throwing spell after spell at Remus. Soon though, the wolfie instincts fight through and _Sirius _is the one deflecting curses and ducking.

"_Stupefy!_" Remus calls, and the black haired Slytherin quite literally throws himself on the floor to miss the spell.

"_Impedimenta!_" he bellows, but with Remus's quick answering "_Protego!_" the spell is rebound off into the crowd of watching students.

Both boys start throwing spells at each other, and Sirius feels like he's gaining the upper hand. Suddenly, Sirius swears loudly when his lip splits open and starts bleeding.

"Okay guys, stop now," Hardy's voice isn't playful, but instead dangerous. Both teenage boys ignore her. Blood has been shed. Now it's turned nasty.

Sirius wipes the blood from his lip, looks up and then looks up just in time to duck the _"Reducto" _making its way towards him. It smashes into the window and shatters the glass. Sirius roars as loud as he can, "_STUPEFY!_" but he misses.

He starts throwing objects in the room at Remus; the few chairs left in the room, bags, books. Some hit Remus and others do not, unfortunately. He's glad when he sees a bruise marring Remus's cheekbone.

Just when the dark-blond haired werewolf is getting ready to bellow a spell, Sirius gets there first.

"_ADFLICTIO!_"

Hesitation... then-

"_DOLORIO!_"

They are both spells to create pain; both so excruciating. Hardy starts screaming now at them and has whipped out her wand. Her shouts are drowned out when Sirius falls to the floor, screaming and shouting; like he's been hit by the Cruciatus Curse.

Everyone turns to look at Remus on the floor, crying out too. Both boys have tears they don't notice streaming down their eyes. Sirius is still bleeding profusely and Remus's cheeks are turning a purple blue now.

Their wands sail out of their hands and into the palm of Charlotte Hardy. She's trembling; her pretty face is red from anger and her usually plump lips almost nonexistent.

"Both of you, wait outside." But then she seems to realise she shouldn't put them together. "Mr Lupin, wait in my office. Mr Black, just get out."

He did after all cast a darker spell first; _Adflictio _is known for being used on elves to have them obey their masters and mistresses fully. And it hurt a bit more than _Dolorio._ There's also the matter of him being the one to cast the spell first.

He snatches his cloak from the floor and catches the satchel Elijah has thrown at him.

"Oh, and Sirius."

He looks back. "Thirty points from Slytherin."

"Oh whatever," he spits back before exiting the room and slamming the door behind him. He doesn't give a flying fuck anymore. In fact, he's probably never in his life fit more into the role of being a Slytherin than now. He _knew _it was a bad idea for Hardy to choose their partners. If Sirius just got to duel Marlene today, then none of this would have happened.

Though Dumbledore's going to be annoyed at Sirius, he'll probably tell him that "_in a weird sort of way, Sirius, you've confirmed for them more than ever now that you _do _belong in Slytherin"_.

Then he'll probably send a letter home and scold Sirius some more. Dumbledore, he's realised, is a twisted old man.

Sirius waits outside the class, and soon Avery and Elijah come out, grinning at Sirius. "Brilliant," they say. "You did scream a bit like a bitch, but that was brilliant. Hardy's kind of cute when she's angry."

Sirius ignores Thomas Avery and looks at Elijah, who has never smiled quite so purely and brightly at Sirius. It's like now he has no suspicion whatsoever that this is all a scam, and the dark haired boy is simply tricking them.

He's fully with Sirius now.

"That was amazing, Sirius."

"Glad you think so."

* * *

_~power~_

* * *

Remus was only given three detentions; Sirius however was given a week's worth. He was and still is very glad it's not a month though. Otherwise he won't have had time for anything, including training for the Hufflepuff vs. Slytherin match.

He doesn't have the power to stay mad at Remus for being good at duelling or a strong fighter. The only thing he resents is that none of the Gryffindors trust him now. They're even colder to him than before. And Sirius still owes James an explanation.

An overdue explanation, with grovelling and plentiful amounts of apologising. But he'll save that for later ... when, _if _everything goes to plan and he's survived of course...

It's the morning of their match. Sirius remembers waking up to a cold jet of water hitting him in the face. He swears a lot too, he remembers that. Sometime during his zombie-daze, he walks to the bathroom to brush his teeth and have a quick shower.

"I'll see you down at breakfast; and please try hurrying the fuck up. Your robes are on your bed." Elijah is calling before the door slams closed.

Sirius smiles and washes out his mouth. Fifteen minutes later, when he's got the clean washed robes on and brushes his slightly damp hair; he looks in the mirror and exhales shakily. His broom it thrown over his shoulder and his beater's bat held firmly in one hand.

As he descends the staircase, he spots Serena Yaxley with Churchfield and a few other annoying female Slytherins. They're all decorating their faces with silver and green.

The girls look up and grin. Long gone are the days when they would watch Sirius with suspicion. Now they treat him the way all the other females used to treat him; like a good meal.

"Good luck!" they all screech, save Yaxley. She simply smiles and nods before looking away and going back to painting her friend's face.

"Thanks," he replies quietly before continuing his journey to the Great Hall. He's not hungry but knows at the sight and smell of food, he'll become ravenous. When Sirius enters the hall, he's glared at by the Hufflepuffs, stared at by the Gryffindors and beckoned by the Slytherins.

Elijah high-fives him and they grin at each other. Sirius looks up and meets the furious hazel eyes of his old friend. James bares his teeth and looks away furiously.

Regulus whacks Sirius over the head with his own broomstick and they beam at each other, one real and the other slightly worried, before embracing roughly. "We're gonna be fine..."

"I know." Sirius says. He looks up again and ignores some of the profanities screamed at him from Gryffindor. Words like _traitor _and _sell-out_ ring through the hall but Sirius keeps his regal head held high and ignores them adamantly.

Who are _they _to judge him? They don't know anything. Nothing at all! He's going to SAVE THE WORLD. And they don't know it, they won't know it.

Shovelling egg and beans on his plate, he eats hurriedly, licking his lips, burping and having some more. The others on the team laugh at his appetite, but Victoria's complaints ring through the hall: "Can't you eat _neater, _Black?" and "My _God _you're a slob!"

Elijah's showing some of the players the best tactics, like the new (and very good) Fourth Year keeper. Many are watching the Slytherin table, but none quite as intently as the Puffs.

Hufflepuffs ... an odd group of people.

Walburga Black always says that Hufflepuff is the house for those who don't fit in any other house. Regulus is spending more time playing with his hair than his food and Sirius can tell something is wrong.

"What's up, Reg?" he asks.

The younger boy looks at him. "It's just ... last year, I caught every snitch but _one _... when we were playing Gryffindor ... what if that happens again this year?"

"It won't. Have faith Regulus. You're the best seeker in this _school _and I'm not just saying that because your my brother. Now buck up and stop being such a wimp."

The younger brother rolls his eyes but nods. The Hufflepuff team are walking out of the hall now, glaring at the Slytherins with hatred and disgust. It's as if they _know _they're going to lose. Who are they to play against the two best beaters _and _the best seeker?

They'll be lucky if they score any goals.

Sirius does have to admit that they have this one chaser better than any of the Slytherin chasers. His name is something like Connolly and he's in the same year, even in Sirius's Charms class.

"Come on!" Elijah barks loudly. "Let's go!" he's shouting. Sirius stands up and goes a bit stiff when Elijah throws a friendly arm over his shoulders, but he grits his teeth, smiles and carries on walking, broom in one hand and bat in the other.

They're already in their Quidditch robes; green with silver strips and silver gloves. Now, it's simply a matter of watching the spectators stream in and sit at their house stands. Sirius feels a little queasy when he eyes the Hufflepuffs; with their enormous posters and banners, and their screaming chanting supporters.

Slytherin is a little bit more subdued; the younger students with small handmade posters and a few girls and boys with their faces painted. Slytherins liked to retain and even show off their dignity though, and screaming like an animal before the match has even started is definitely not dignified.

Slytherin and Hufflepuff are at the opposite ends of the green, chilly pitch. They're all crowded around in a group huddle, chatting eagerly and making hand gestures.

"Aren't you going to give us a pep talk, Elijah?" Sirius asks him.

The other boy shakes his head. "Pep talks are for the weak. We're already going to win. I predict by maybe a two to three hundred point margin."

"Cocky little thing, aren't you?" Sirius laughs in response. Then the commentator's voice rings out loud and clear. It's a Ravenclaw boy talking; Gordon or something.

Elijah starts talking, "Okay guys, straight horizontal line, you know why..."

Mulciber seems to think it'll make them look more intimidating if they walk side by side, backs straight and fists balled. They already _are _intimidating, but all of the players obey him anyway.

"... the left, we have Slytherin, who lost out by a small margin last year to Gryffindor for the Quidditch Cup. The captain of Slytherin this year is Elijah Mulciber with his co-captain Sirius Black, ex-Gryffindor beater and now in the Slytherin house. You know, if I knew we could change houses I would have done things a whole lot more different..."

"_Jordan!_"

"Right, sorry Professor McGonagall. Black's younger brother _Regulus _is the star seeker, keeper for this year is Edgar Wallace, and we also have chasers Victoria Edwards, Jack Leighton and Charles Archibald. Wow, that's a mouthful. I have a feeling Slytherin are going to do _very _well this year, with the best beaters and the best seeker."

There are boos and Jordan the commentator laughs, "Alright, alright, I'm sorry. Yeesh, ease up on the Slytherin hatred. On Hufflepuff, we have star chaser, but not better than James Potter, I mean, who's better than James Potter? Right, sorry Professor. Yes, we have John Connolly, and the captain for this year is Luke Matheson..."

Sirius ignores the rest of what's said, not caring at all for the Hufflepuff players and their names. The green and silver team swagger from their corner, walking with arrogance and cockiness. And Sirius has to admit, he feels kind of badass.

But then again, doesn't he always? The Hufflepuffs are walking towards them, and the captain's hand is outstretched. With a smug smirk, Mulciber takes the hand, grinds it as hard as he can and releases it. If Matheson's hand is hurting, he doesn't show it.

Professor Mars comes onto the pitch; he's an old chaser for Puddlemere United and has been teaching at Hogwarts for quite a while. Sirius doesn't even think Mars can ride a broomstick properly anymore. He can probably can only go up and down.

"You know the rules, any wands out and immediate disqualification of the person. Any brawls," he looks at Sirius and Elijah when he says this and they grin sheepishly, "and immediate disqualification for the rest of the match and the next match. Got it?"

The Hufflepuffs agree to the rules confidently, but Sirius nods worriedly. He knows he can get ... quite _caught _up in a match and forget about everything going on around him. Including the rules.

"Alright, mount your brooms." Mars says, releasing the bludgers and the snitch. He waves his wand and sends the quaffle shooting into the sky, so high they can't even see it.

The whistle is blown and Sirius shoots into the sky first, higher than anyone and faster than anyone. Regulus has been instructed by Mulciber to procrastinate for a bit, roam around, stretch time; so the chasers and beaters can have a bit of fun.

And right now, bless the poor bored boy; he's lounging on his broom looking utterly bored.

"Kelley from Hufflepuff with the quaffle—"

_Not anymore,_ Sirius thinks. He roars as he chases the bludger as fast as he can, beating it in speed, almost slipping off his broom as he whacks the bludger with his bat and sends it towards her.

The bludger smashes into the side of her broom, and sends Kelley whirling through the air. She drops the quaffle which is caught by Victoria Edwards. She sure has a strong right arm; the ball hurtles through the left ring, keeper missing it only just.

"TEN POINTS TO SLYTHERIN!"

The first chunk of the match passes in a similar fashion; Elijah or Sirius doing some serious harm to the keeper or the chasers thus enabling the Slytherin chasers to easily score. He knows they're already one hundred and ten points up, Hufflepuff with only ten.

It's like all the anger and hatred boiling up inside of him is bursting out now, and Sirius has never in his life been more grateful for the beautiful game of Quidditch.

He feels the air behind him rushing past to meet him and barely ducks a bludger fighting through gravity to hit him. Sirius looks up and sees one of the Hufflepuff beaters smirking at him.

Did they really think he's so easy to handicap and injure? Sirius dives after the same bludger hurtling fifty odd feet down to Regulus, and there's a collective "_Oooh!_" when it barely misses the younger brother. Sirius roars as he smashes the bludger up as hard as he can, and laughs loudly when the bludger does indeed connect with the stupid beater.

He flies up to stop the beaters and chasers from targeting Jack Leighton, who is in possession of the quaffle, when he sees Mulciber getting there first. They share mischievous winks and in unison, track down the two bludgers and pelt them at the crowd. It's filthy, the amount of aggressive both Slytherins are playing with.

But it feels so good. Like all the pent up energy and rage inside the ex-Gryffindor is boiling and bursting its way out.

Both bludgers collide with one of the Hufflepuffs, and he falls off his broom, clearly unconscious. A whistle sounds loudly and the game is stopped.

"It seems Black and Mulciber's antics call for a penalty. Not that I don't expect it. Poor Nicol's out cold now. Yes, Black's arguing with Professor Mars, and so is Mulciber now ... ooh, they don't look happy. They make quite a good pair though; I mean, look how many goals have been scored because of their pelting bludgers? Two hundred and eighty compared to Hufflepuff's seventy. Bless 'em."

Everyone can see Sirius restraining Mulciber now from beating the _crap _out of Professor Mars, who, bless his blind poor old self, can't see anything really. There's a moment when Sirius is murmuring to Mulciber, who visibly relaxes. He muses the captain's hair and flies off to get the best view of Hufflepuff's awarded penalty.

They definitely deserve the penalty, Sirius thinks. They probably deserve about fifteen, from how dirty they've all been playing. Hufflepuff score, but it's not the cleanest goal. Still, there's a shattering applause. Clearly everyone wants Slytherin to lose.

Then, all eyes swivel to Regulus and the seeker for Hufflepuff, both fighting to get to the snitch first. Sirius pauses on his broom and marvels at how natural his brother looks, flying through the air. He isn't even trying.

The Hufflepuff seeker is at least a metre ahead of him now, a metre closer to the snitch. But suddenly, with a burst of speed and strength, Regulus passes her and dives after the snitch, the golden ball and himself both plummeting to the ground.

They're all watching now, the Hufflepuffs resigned and the Slytherins triumphant. Regulus pulls short barely a foot from the ground, turns to look up at his fellow players, and holds the golden ball up.

"SLYTHERIN WIN! FOUR HUNDRED AND EIGHTY POINTS!" the commentator Jordan cries.

There's booing from the majority of the stands, but Slytherin still manage to be heard. There's roaring and screaming, and much hugging. Sirius flies to the ground, tumbles off his broom and sweeps his brother into a warm embrace, laughing when all the other players jump on the Black brothers.

"We won!"

"_WE WON!_"

* * *

_~hated~_

* * *

He can't really blame everyone. They hate him, he knows that. But Slytherin did after all win fair and square-ish...

They're in the common room. But whereas Gryffindor would host an enormous party each time they won a match, Slytherin were a lot more mature and restrained. There's butterbeer on the tables, the Wizarding Wireless Network is playing _The Hobgoblins _softly in the background and people chatting happily.

It's surprisingly normal, how _human _the Slytherins are. Sirius never imagined in his wildest dreams that they would be so regular. But then again, they are just children right now. Five years, ten maybe, and they'll be just as messed up as his parents.

He's sitting on the sofa with Thomas Avery and Matthew Macnair. Thomas, or _Tommy _as Elijah likes to say, has warmed up to him considerably now. Still slips snide comments in, but then again, it's only been a few hours.

Macnair however is ... something different.

They're drinking spiked butterbeer and getting a little tipsy, but then again it is Sunday tomorrow. Time for a nice lie in maybe?

It's much easier to win the Slytherins over than Sirius first thought. Halloween is next week and Sirius knows he needs to start winning the female population over too. He's thinking of asking maybe Edwards or Churchfield or ... Yaxley out to the Halloween Slug Club party.

So far there have been two meetings, and Sirius luckily missed one because of Quidditch. But he has stayed true to his promise and rejoined the Slug Club.

It's still awful and abysmal to say the least but slightly bearable now Regulus is with Sirius. He looks up from his almost empty bottle of butterbeer/firewhiskey and smiles at the girls watching him. Serena Yaxley is very pretty, in a strictly observing sort of way. Churchfield has a rockin' body, and Edwards has a lovely face, but Yaxley's like a fusion of the both.

She rolls her eyes but nods nonetheless at him when their eyes clash in a tide of grey and piercing blue. He raises his bottle at her before gulping the rest down of his butterbeer and firewhiskey concotion and snatching _Tommy's _bottle.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter in anyway; I'm afraid it's just the plot and OCs of this story for me! :(

Beta'ed by Dragon Silhouette, who like, literally saves my life by correcting all the mistakes in this story for me.

It was my birthday on saturday, and a smashing one at that! I had so much fun, even got a one-shot dedicated to me. So ya' know, life's good. Please enjoy this chapter, and thanks for all the readers! Gahhh! You're amazing!

* * *

**Part Two**

**Progression**

_xoxo_

* * *

"You're doing better this full moon," Sirius says gently to a dozing Remus. James and Peter are currently upstairs in the bathroom, tending to their injuries.

Sirius does not want any of them to heal his. He has realised now that each wound he receives, each cut that he refuses to heal is all penance and atonement for the betrayal he's committed.

It is the night before Halloween, or maybe it is better to say the morning of Halloween. Yes, the day where crazy nutters waltz around celebrating demons, witches and devils ... Crackpot really is an accurate word to describe Muggles.

He sits and watches Remus, looking so peaceful, serene, calm. Perhaps the most calm he has ever been. But people are always more calm during sleep.

"You really care about him, don't you?" a voice says from the doorway. Sirius turns and sees James frowning delicately at him.

He looks back at the softly snoring werewolf on the floor, chest bare and waist-down hastily covered. "Would you rather I didn't?"

The bespectacled Gryffindor walks towards Sirius with a deliberate slowness, his footsteps echoing. He stops and stands before Sirius, staring. "Why did you leave us?" he asks.

Sirius begins to shake his head but is interrupted by James when he opens his mouth to speak. "No, Sirius. Don't you see? We miss you. Okay, stay in Slytherin, it's your choice and we can't force you to move. But please goddammit, don't lie to me. Tell me the truth, for the first time in such a while. Why did you leave?" James Potter's voice has never before sounded so vulnerable, like he is scared to talk to Sirius. Scared _of _Sirius.

The silver eyed boy replies just as carefully. "I don't know what you're—"

"DAMMIT SIRIUS!" James roars. He grabs Sirius by his lapels and pulls him off the floor, shaking him. Even though Sirius is a little bit stronger, he lets the other boy shake him before releasing him and stepping back. "Stop _lying _to me! Stop being so goddamn h-horrible! You _owe _me the truth!"

"What does it _matter _if I changed houses for my brother? What does it matter if I'm friends with Tom—Avery," he quickly corrects himself, "and Mulciber? It doesn't matter James. Because at the end of the day I'm in Slytherin."

"But at the end of the day Padfoot," James steps forward and places a hand cautiously on his old friend's shoulder, "you're _still _my best friend. _Still _my brother."

Sirius is overwhelmed with affection and _feeling _because the Marauders were always so good at getting him to feel. Something he was conditioned at home not to do; something he's trying to relearn.

"I'm sorry James."

"Get out of here." Though there's no malice in James's voice, he is right. Sirius really should go. "You have somewhere to be, don't you?"

Sirius looks down at the sleeping werewolf on the floor before his gaze flickers up to James. "See you later," he murmurs before bolting out of the room. When he is out of the room he feels like he can finally breathe again. James is right. Sirius does have somewhere to be - specifically, the Slytherin common room.

The majority of people like him now. Maybe it is because of the Quidditch match and the way he has obliterated the other team. If he is truly a Gryffindor then he won't have done such an atrocious thing. Besides, Sirius still needs to ask Yaxley if she'll come with him to the Slug Club Halloween party. He is thinking of asking her today. He would have asked Churchfield but she already has a date.

It's not that Churchfield is prettier or Sirius is more attracted to her than he is to Yaxley, but she's simpler, easier to talk to, seems more human. Yaxley is like some princess from another world, pure and whole and innocent-ish...

It is a fast walk to the Slytherin common room, surprisingly. But then again, maybe it is only fast because Sirius is not paying attention at all. He is, in fact, thinking very intently on the latest letter he has received from his mother.

_I'm so proud of you..._

_...keep up the good work..._

_...your father and I have heard a lot about your acquaintances with Mulciber and Avery..._

They seem like they really are proud of him. But they're just playing a game, probably. They are, after all, Walburga and Orion Black.

He gets to the common room and is jumped on by his little brother before he can even look around to see who's up. Breakfast hasn't even started yet and most people, it appears, are up getting ready or grasping just a few more moments of sleep. "It's my birthday the day after the Slug Club party, what are you getting me?"

_Well oh fuck!_

How can Sirius forget? Regulus's birthday is on the first of November and has always been a huge celebration in the Black family. But his little brother's birthday has totally escaped his mind. Sirius swallows a little noisily and coughs into his hand. "Can't tell you now, can I?"

"Please?" pouts the younger brother.

"No, now fuck off otherwise you won't get a present at all." He winks to show he's joking but is inside kicking himself for not remembering.

"Breakfast starts soon anyway, Rabastan and I are going down. Care to join us?" Though the pair of brothers may not seem like it sometimes, they are very cultured and even a little posh. Sirius, having felt a little odd in Gryffindor during his first few weeks at Hogwarts, tried fervently to stamp out the snobby manners and posh accent his parents forced upon him. Now he appears a little more normal.

Sometimes he even manages to remember not to pronounce the _'t'_s at the end or in the middle of words.

"No thank you Regulus," Sirius replies just as haughtily, nose in the air and hair tossed back. The brothers look at each other before collapsing in laughter. "I'll see you later, Reg."

Nodding, and with a small wave, Regulus leaves the common room, Rabastan behind him and wearing a cautious glare when his eyes meet Sirius's.

He goes through to the boys' wing slowly and locates the grander rooms for OWL and NEWT students. Even the common rooms reflect the classist system and mentality of Slytherins and everything Salazar.

When Sirius enters his room, he can see Snape packing away some books silently in the corner, ignorant to Sirius's appearance. Elijah and Thomas are chatting quietly near the bathroom door but nod when they see Sirius and smirk at his rough state (they think he has spent the night with a girl). They go back to chatting quietly.

Just as Sirius gets his stuff ready for a quick shower, Macnair comes out and glares at him slightly. There are three other Slytherins who share the dormitory with Sirius, not talking of Mulciber, Avery, Snape, Macnair and Crabbe.

Then there is the other dormitory with more Sixth Year Slytherins: Michael, Archibald from Quidditch and a few others.

"Back from another _moon_light tryst, Black?" a sneering voice asks. Sirius whizzes around to face Snape and he stops breathing for a second.

"Yes; because I, unlike you, have sex with things _other _than my hand." He can hear Elijah, Thomas and the likes laughing.

Snape pales, if possible, and his hand flutters to his pocket. He doesn't withdraw his wand though. He seems only to be reminding Sirius that he is a good wizard too.

"Funny how they always seem to happen every four weeks. Funny how you seem to always come back tired and dirty and ... injured..."

The long-haired pureblood swallows a little noisily and immediately adopts his big-headed and rather snobby persona. He forces his nose to go up, hair fanning out behind him. He speaks in ancient but very familiar tones. "I'll wait until you are no longer a virgin before I waste any breath on you. But then again, I might have to wait a century or two. I mean really, who'd sleep with you?"

Snape's face contorts and he whips out his wand, beating Sirius. "You would do well to remember what I know!"

"AND YOU WOULD DO WELL TO REMEMBER WHO THE FUCK I AM!" Sirius roars as loudly as he can, whipping out his wand too and fastening it on Snape. Before he can restrain it, he hisses in a voice very unlike his own, "You _dirty_ half-blood."

There's speaking but Sirius doesn't hear it. He's too busy staring blankly at nothing in particular, puzzling over the words that just felt his mouth. _Dirty half-blood? _Did he really just...

But Sirius doesn't care about blood or ... or anything like that. Remus, one of his best friends, is a half-blood. Still, he can't take back what he said now can he? If he could, Sirius wishes he'd be able to pluck the words straight from the air and stuff them back into his fat mouth (lovely really if you ask him).

"Hurry up Sirius, breakfast is starting." Elijah says, breaking the air and shooting Sirius a warning look; one that read _just hurry up and stop stirring Snape up the wrong way._

"Don't wait for me. Just go to breakfast. I'll see you in a bit." His voice wavers a little but he is surprised at how calm it seems.

Thomas chews on his lip but nods and leaves with the others. Snape is last out the door and just when Sirius thinks he is going to leave and let things blow over, he fixes Sirius with a bitter glare and hisses under his breath, "I know you're sneaking out to see your little Marauder friends. I bet you huddle 'round in the Hospital Wing and wait for your darling monster to come back. Well, you can fool the others but don't you dare even try to fool me."

The words hit too close to home. Sirius closes his eyes tight and then says coldly, "Even if I did fraternise myself with blood-traitors and half-breeds, I'd rather do so on my own accord than being lobbed in a room for two years permanently with you, Snape."

Snape swallows and without another word leaves the room. His palms are shaking as he hurries through the common room and out through the disguised hole. He cannot bare to even look at the _confusing and fake_ Black.

He doesn't make any sense! Is he on _their _side or secretly working with the Marauders to prank to whole of Slytherin. Only, he can't trick them. It's been too long. Almost two months now.

When Severus enters the Great Hall, few people look up and even fewer people watch him sit down, frazzled. There is one girl, her gaze lingering on him for a little too long, who watches until he looks up to meet her almond shaped eyes.

Her eyes are dead; void of any emotion. Lily hasn't even said a word to him since the end of Fifth Year, when she permanently cut him off. He needs her; like a drowning man needs oxygen. She's his everything; only, from the small smiles she and James Potter exchange when they sit down near each other, if things keep going the way they are going, maybe she won't be his anymore.

Maybe she'll be Potter's.

He hopes she's never Potter's. Arrogant, haughty, pig-headed Potter. Severus _despises _him. Loathes to even think about a future where Lily and Potter are married, with two children and a dog.

He doesn't deserve her, no one does. Least of all _Potter. _

Black never does appear for breakfast. Instead, they see him storm in half way through their first period of Transfiguration. The rich pureblood has a scroll and shows it to McGonagall before nodding and taking his seat beside Avery and Mulciber.

He's silent for the rest of the lesson, and Severus begins to wonder ... maybe his words really did cut Black deep.

* * *

_unbearable_

* * *

Sirius cannot even bear the thought of going to breakfast now. No, he is going to drown in the shower and pour some soap into his eyes, try to cloud out the sorrow bursting through. But first, he needs to speak to Dumbledore.

Tell the elder man just how hard he is finding it to adjust, to skirt around his fellow snakes and lie to them so wholly. What's worse of all is that Sirius is so scared of being found out. Because if he is found out then he's dead, whether physically, thanks to the Death Eaters, or emotionally, because no one, least of all his family and Marauders, will accept him.

Before he knows it, his feet are carrying him out of the Slytherin common room and down a now familiar path to Dumbledore's office. He knows the password, "Fawkes" and says it when he appears at the gargoyle. After a moment's wait, the stairs appear and Sirius steps on the first stair, running up them impatiently.

He knows he needs to knock and does, but only just. A quiet and very tired voice calls out, "Enter" so he opens the door and pauses in the doorway.

"I h-hope you're not busy sir," he breathes, tears already in his eyes.

_You promised you wouldn't cry! You promised! Don't cry Sirius, you can't—_

Before he knows it, he's sobbing and shaking his head and snivelling all over his hand. "I-I c-c-can't d-do it!"

"Dear boy," exhales the Headmaster worriedly, half-rising from his chair, "what on earth is the matter Sirius?" His voice is gentler but he's watching Sirius cry softly. And he hates it.

"T-they're g-going to fin-find out," he stutters, "and if t-they do, what's l-left for me?" He looks up, silver eyes twinkling and cheeks flushed red.

Dumbledore comes around the table. He has that look on his face, the unfathomable, profound expression where the twinkle in his eyes reaches out like sun rays, touching and feeling every part of Sirius's mind. It calms him down considerably.

He sniffs before taking a seat opposite the Headmaster's chair. Sirius runs an exasperated hand over his face, exhaling heavily.

The Headmaster speaks in a very soft voice when he looks at his potentially _favourite _student. He sees a lot of himself inside Sirius, perhaps a little less reckless and wild though.

"What's wrong, Sirius."

"Everything!" the boy has regained composure and is trying adamantly not to break down again. "Snape is goading me about Remus, my parents are demanding things from me, my old friends are pressuring me, everything is wrong. I feel ... feel like everything inside me is going to explode, collapse on me and turn me into something I don't want to be, Professor."

As hard as Albus tries, he's finding it difficult to understand. Who knew? Albus Dumbledore, finding something difficult to understand? The man who can read through lies with nothing more than a moment's concentration. The man who has been known to cast some of the most powerful spells in the history of magic. A man compared to Godric Gryffindor?

But yes, he is finding it hard to understand Sirius Black in that short moment and it frightens him.

"Maybe all you need is someone to talk to? Someone to understand you?"

Sirius shakes his head impatiently. "But that's it. No one will understand me because no one is going through the shit that I'm going through!"

The severity of the situation is shown when Dumbledore does not reprimand Sirius for his swearing.

"You can stop this now Sirius if you want too—"

"Oh, don't kid yourself professor. I can't turn back now! It's too late. I'm in too deep. Already family members want to see me during the Christmas holiday; Bella and Cissy and Lucius are all interested in knowing what has _turned _me. No ... I just need to find a way to ... to let everything bolting up inside me, out."

"Aah," utters the Headmaster, his face relaxing. Then he smiles. "I know what you need Sirius."

The young student quirks an eyebrow up and scoffs, "Oh, and what's that?"

Professor Dumbledore mutters a spell and a book appears in front of Sirius. He pauses, picks it up and then makes a noise between exasperation and indignation. "Are you joking?" he shouts. "A diary?"

"A journal—"

"A _diary!_" Sirius exclaims, shaking his head and tossing it back down on the desk. "I'm not some pansy who's going to pour his heart out on a few pages of parchment and feel better."

"It helps, Mr Black," the Headmaster replies in a stern and annoyed voice. "Won't you at least _try_?"

Exhaling shakily and almost sneering at the Headmaster, before recovering _some _of his respect and nodding most grudgingly, Sirius says,. "Dear God, Professor ... I'll try ... but if anyone finds out, please can I obliviate them or something?"

Dumbledore laughs, surprisingly before he smiles at Sirius. "Yes, I'll help you in fact. But really, Mr Black," his voice deepens and he looks Sirius in the eye, all tracing and joking gone, "I'm always here if you need me. Few know what you've purposely done, and even fewer understand."

"Do you understand?" Sirius counters, standing up and slinging his satchel over his shoulder. He puts the _journal _into his bag and then takes the hovering scroll of parchment Dumbledore has just written out from the desk.

"Not yet. But if you'll let me, Sirius, I can try."

With an almost apologetic smile, the Slytherin shakes his head and leaves without another word, his hand instinctively flying to the satchel-covered journal.

* * *

_taunting_

* * *

It is another Potions lesson sitting besides Yaxley and silently working. No, not silently working. Yaxley is muttering under her breath and Sirius is scowling at his potion. It is brewing, but not as developed as he would like.

Thomas shouts to Sirius from across the room, "Nailed the Axe yet Black?"

Turning over and scowling at Avery, Sirius sticks a middle finger up. "Fuck off Tommy." He turns and sheepishly smiles at Yaxley. "Sorry Serena, they always do this to me when I'm near a girl."

She laughs softly. "Don't worry, I'm used to it. You know, I think I heard Elijah saying something similar to Matthew the other day..."

Matthew Macnair ... hmm ... still quite a blind spot to Sirius, to say the least. He's not overtly hostile or cruel but he is snide sometimes. Elijah says that that's just the way Macnair is but Sirius isn't so sure. Macnair is much smarter than most people think.

Sirius shakes his head, refusing to get lost in the great cavernous mind of his. He bites his lip when he catches Yaxley watching him.

"What?" he asks.

"Your brother's birthday soon. What have you gotten him?" she asks.

Sirius groans angrily. "Nothing yet. I totally forgot about his birthday. I want to get him something that no one else will get him because I know my parents are going to lavish him with gifts like brooms and robes. I want to get him something he'll really remember though."

Serena frowns for a minute, worrying her bottom lip and stirring her simmering cauldron, now getting hotter and hotter. "Has he ever been on holiday?" she asks.

He does not know what she's getting at. "We've been on lots of holidays. The South of France where we stayed at the Black Chateau, the Italy Villa near Venice, the—"

He stops talking when she starts shaking her head.

"I don't mean holidays with your family, silly. I mean real holidays. With friends and laughter and beautiful women, or men, if Reg likes men..." They laugh for a moment before she talks again. "Take him somewhere worth seeing. Just for a few days."

Sirius nods, smiles and laughs, exactly in that order. "Yes, I love it. The idea I mean." Why is he blushing? "Yes, I could take him somewhere worth going. Egypt or ... Greece or America. My mother despises America..."

Serena tips some crushed beetles into her potion and stirs it twice anticlockwise before nodding. "Have fun."

"I'll set it up tonight. Give it to him after the party at midnight or whenever I come back in the common room. Say, have you got a date for Slughorn's party?" He tries to sound nonchalant and cringes when it doesn't come out as smoothly as he would have liked.

"Why?" Serena challenges, "You interested in taking me to the party?"

He eagerly nods. "Yes—"

"Too late, I'm afraid. Thomas asked me if I wanted to go with him as friends of course, before lunch. I heard Samantha hasn't got anyone to go with though. Didn't you two have a thing going on in fifth year?"

The dark-haired teenager blushes, tossing his hair back. "Maybe... well, I think I will ask her then. She's quite nice. Calmed down quite a bit this year especially."

"That's because her mum and dad said if she got less than an Acceptable in any of her subjects they'd send her to Durmstrang. And you know all the girls who go there are well ... _vicious_."

The bell sounds, signalling the end of the school day and a few hours before dinner. They all pack their things away and banish their cauldrons to the other side of the room into the Sixth Year Higher storage room.

"Thanks for the help ... try not to tell Reg about what I'm going to get him," he says as she puts her coat and scarf on.

"Would I ever...?" Yaxley smiles brightly at him and leaves the room hastily, pausing only to exchange some words with Thomas.

_Damn you Thomas._

* * *

_bittersweet_

* * *

If anyone asks Sirius where his favourite place in the whole of Hogwarts is, he might say the Quidditch pitch. But it isn't.

It is the Astronomy tower.

The Astronomy tower is where he had his first kiss and first argument with his friends. Of course he loves the tall tower - it's where he feels like he belongs. Amongst the stars shining bright in the clear, unpolluted sky – yes, the stars are his home. More of a home to him than the House of Black will ever be.

Sirius lights a cigarette with a snap of his fingers and scowls at the cruel little device between his fingers. He inhales deeply, watching the stirring smoke dance then die. A cold cycle, isn't it? To be born. To live. To die...

It's quite chilly and Sirius kicks himself for not bringing an over-robe to wear.

The sky is getting darker, now a navy blue. Twinkling away over the dark velvet sky are thousands of stars, brilliant and silver, shining brighter than anything. It is as if they are smiling at Sirius. Embracing him, inviting him in.

He hears a noise behind him and turns to look back.

_It's James._

The bespectacled teenager is as surprised as Sirius is. They do not say anything though. Instead, James simply takes a seat beside Sirius, a few feet between them. They are sitting on the ledge, feet dangling, and if one carelessly moves forward more than fifteen centimetres, will plunge to their death.

The Marauders always used to hang out here, more often than not because something had gone wrong. Peter's mother was sick, Remus's passing full moon was the worst, Lily turned James down, Sirius got in another argument with his parents...

But now it is a place of old bitter memories.

Sad, how the good memories can fade so quickly, leaving space only for the bad ones, polluting minds and images of people.

Sad, right?

Sirius takes out another fag and hands it to James, who wordlessly lights it and inhales lazily.

They sit like that, two feet between them, silence of everything but the wind, smoke stirring in the air around them. It's ... nice.

More than nice really. Like he has his best friend back again, his brother in every single damn fucking thing but the red liquid flowing through their veins, and even then, they're related. Even then Sirius knows he has inherited, somehow, the wild streak and rebellion from his Aunt Dorea.

He curses himself in his head for remembering Aunt Dorea, because now he has to return to James what he has cherished for years. Sirius reaches in his satchel and takes out the mirror, looking at his dim reflection before skating it across the two feet of space between him and his old friend.

James's mouth is open in a wordless protest but he closes it almost stubbornly and snatches the mirror from the ledge, tucking it into his pocket and resolutely looking forward. When he finishes smoking his cigarette, James Potter does not stay. Instead he gets up and silently _leaves_.

The click of the door resonates through the Stargazing Balcony of the Astronomy tower. Sirius thinks the click of his heart is louder though. His _best_ friend...

* * *

_doubt_

* * *

_I think the only reason Dumbledore called you a journal was to try and make me feel less feminine than I already do. I'm a blood ponce, crying and getting all sad because my friends aren't my friends anymore._

_Could I even class _myself _as a friend? If I choose happiness over the wellbeing of everyone I've ever cared for?..._

Sirius wakes up in the morning to find he's filled nine pages of his journal. He can't help but let the restrained smile slip just a _little _bit. Maybe Dumbledore's right. Maybe it really _will _help him. He needs help, now more than ever.

* * *

**A/N: **I promise, thanks to a prompt from my beta, that the plot will progress in the next chapter. I'll give a little hint... there's a scene between Bellatrix and the parents. The evil parents... can't wait.

Thank you all so much for taking an interest and taking the time to favourite/follow/review or simply read. I'm so flattered, you've made me so happy!


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling.

Beta'd by ... *drum roll* DRAGON SILHOUETTE! Thank you xxx

Please review, like, please! :)

* * *

**Part Two**

**Progression**

_xoxo_

* * *

The first thing Sirius can feel is the stickiness all down his bare chest and bare legs. His hair is matted to his face and the room is fucking freezing. No, more than freezing - it is like ice. He cannot stand it. Sirius jumps up and then groans. He is naked. Great. And there is a girl right beside him snoring gently. Gorgeous, she is.

But Sirius, for the life of him, cannot remember her name. And really, he should remember it because she had been in his Care of Magical Creatures class before she dropped it half way through Third Year.

There is moaning going on half way down the dormitory (it is a dormitory, right?) and Sirius finds an empty bottle of butterbeer on the bed with him. Aaah … must be what the stickiness is then. He swipes at the curtain veiling his bed and discovers many more empty bottles on the ground, and they are not all butterbeer. Well, some are a type of beer, just not the sweet, barely-alcoholic one. There are also bottles of firewhiskey and all the other awesome stuff.

It is the day after Regulus's birthday. And Sirius cannot remember a thing. Well … he can remember some stuff.

* * *

_~wild~_

* * *

"I love it," says Regulus, embracing Sirius and laughing. "Two weeks with you in Greece, during Easter. It'll be amazing."

"Of course it will be," Sirius says, cuffing his younger brother on the head and smiling at him. "Okay, now, we really do need to get going to the common room. Mulciber and Avery want to initiate you into being sixteen and all that crap by challenging you to down a bottle of firewhiskey."

"Don't worry, it can't be that bad," the birthday boy says in a soft voice. "I mean, at Slughorn's party yesterday I drank more than a bottle of firewhiskey."

"Yes," the elder brother says impatiently, "but that was over a period of time. This is _downing_ a whole bottle of firewhiskey; there's a big difference. Here's a tip, young one: don't try and drink too much all at once, but sip it as quickly as you can."

Regulus, though he does not understand at all, nods anyway. "Alright, thanks."

They're near the common room now. Just one more flight of stairs and…

"_Basilisk,_" hisses Sirius, and the wall parts, revealing -

"Fuck!" Regulus manages to exclaim before he is sucked up by the throng of over-enthusiastic people - mostly Slytherin but with a few Ravenclaws. Loud music is playing, people are dancing, drinking, playing games - it really is a party. Not as good as a Gryffindor one but amazing nonetheless.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU! HAPPY - " people sing to Regulus, who is blushing and smiling at everyone, ducking his head. A bottle of firewhiskey is shoved in his face by a grinning Elijah Mulciber, who is shouting over the singing, "Drink it!"

The party is a long one, or maybe that is because some people are drunk and others are high, so it seems long. Nevertheless, Elijah stands on the table, kicking a few glasses and if not for the help of his best friend Tommy, would have toppled over. "Alright everyone, listen up!"

All eyes are on Elijah now. The music, with a flick of Regulus's wand, is turned off and now the only thing that can be heard is the silly laughter radiating like rays through the room, the sounds of gulping, and the dull whispers.

"Everyone sit down an' get … g-get inna circle," slurs Elijah. He is a drinker he is. Downed half a bottle of firewhiskey successfully, finished it off within five more minutes, played Shot-for-Shot with Regulus and is still going. He has some Muggle beer in his hand right now though. Surely the Muggle stuff is not as strong, right?

"Let's play … play _spin the bottle_!" he screeches like an over-excited toddler. There really are not that many people. Some had gone to bed because they were tired, all the Ravenclaws save three girls had left because of curfew and many of the unconscious Slytherins were taken to their beds. That leaves about thirty of them.

"I don't wan' play," a Seventh Year murmurs to her boyfriend, kissing the side of his face. "Let's dance."

"Oh yeah … if you've got a boyfriend or girg-friend - " he hesitates, realising that girg-friend is not a word, but decided to ignore it, " - don't play."

A few of them shake their heads good-naturedly but concede without another word and go off to dance and drink some more. "Alright then."

A bottle is placed in the middle of the group of twenty nine. Sixteen boys and thirteen girls, three of which are Ravenclaws. "Birthday boy's honour. You go first Regulus."

He blushes, never looking more innocent than now, in that moment. He reaches over, and spins the firewhiskey bottle. Everyone's eyes are trained on it and watch with rapid interest as it spins and spins and-

Lands on Thomas Avery.

"Fuck off," Reg slurs drunkenly. "I can't kiss a boy, you is … you is kidding me..."

Sirius giggles but bites his lip when he's fixed with an angry expression of determination. "Get on with it then," he says when the two males make no move to lean over and kiss for sixty seconds.

"You know the consequences," Elijah says very slowly, as if it hurts to say each word. He flashes his wand and explains in further detail, "I'm drunk and a little bit high and you really don't want me to curse you in this state."

As if that is the only threat they need, Tommy practically jumps over to Regulus and says quickly, "I've been on the receiving end of his drunken spell-shooting, it's not pretty," before he slams his lips onto Regulus's. It is a short, awkward kiss and does not even last the sixty seconds it is supposed to. There are good-natured jeering and gagging but it is all over when Regulus chooses Elijah to go next.

Elijah … lucky Elijah … he gets Elizabeth to kiss, and everyone knows she is pretty and really worth kissing. They go way over twenty seconds, but no one complains, she's purty...

Sirius cannot wait until it is his turn. When it comes, he spins and watches it. The tip of the bottle lands on … Michaela.

She is the best looking out of all the Ravenclaw girls here at the party - by far. Sirius winks at her and says, "We're the seventh couple. You know what that means?"

"Snog for seven minutes, right?"

"Hell yeah." Sirius leans over, buries his hand in her long hair and snogs the hell out of her. Their teeth drunkenly clash, they bite each other a little too hard and their groping a little too rough, but it is so good.

Sirius smirks arrogantly when she moans and he does not notice time flying past. It is way past seven minutes, and everyone is playing again. Regulus is kissing another girl and he looks way too experienced for the elder brother's liking, but when Michaela whispers something into Sirius's ear, he finds himself not caring about his brother that much anymore.

Sirius is surprised he can even get it up because he is so damn drunk. He can hear people entering the room, laughing, leaving. A bottle of firewhiskey is deposited by his bed though, and he is not sure he is confident or okay with them waltzing in whilst he is having sex in clear view of their prying, pervy little eyes. It's not like he is doing a bad job though; what's-her-face is moaning her arse off. When it is over, they cuddle up on the bed and fall asleep together. Sirius does not have a clue that at that moment, his brother has just popped his cherry.

* * *

_~surprise~_

* * *

The reason Slytherins get away with parties so much is because, like Ravenclaws, they are not expected to have parties. Just like their pureblood mania and muggleborn prejudice, they themselves receive prejudice and stereotyping. Only, for them, more often than not, it works out in their favour.

As much as Sirius adores McGonagall, she would always come up and check on them when it was a big occasion like a Marauder birthday, winning the Quidditch cup, exams finishing and so on.

In addition to this, Slughorn is much lazier than McGonagall, and probably will not be able to make it to the Slytherin corridor late at night to check on them.

Sirius gets up when he hears giggling, not able to stand the godforsaken noise. He does not bother to put any underwear on; last night, they all saw enough of him in the throes of passion and stuff. He looks in the mirror and does not recognise the face staring back at him. There is lipstick all over his mouth and neck, lovebites littering his pale skin, dry butterbeer covering his chest and his hair is like a haystack: tangled, matted and incredibly messy.

He sort of likes the look, if he is honest.

"_Dear God_," murmurs a voice from the doorway. Sirius's hands flutter down to cover his manly area and he looks up. _Why, oh why God? Do you really hate me so much as to lead Serena fucking Yaxley all the way to the bathroom where I'm standing naked and..._

_She can't keep her eyes off of me_, he thinks.

"Shit," he says, "sorry, I..." he looks down and sees he is barely managing to cover himself.

"Okay, bye now," she squeals and runs out of the room.

He shakes his head. You would think she has never even seen a dick in her entire life...

They have all missed breakfast because lunch is being served: pizza, sandwiches, sausages, pastries and the like clutter the tables. All the students look up because they know what the Slytherins have been up too. And it really is quite hard for Sirius and the others to hide their numerous amount of lovebites, their narrowed eyes, and their tired expressions.

Sirius sends the barest of glances towards his old friends and nods back when they grace him with such a gesture. He sits down and shovels food into his mouth, never having quite an appetite such as this one. He drinks three cups of coffee and then turns to his brother. His brother has a stupid grin on his face, sending fleeting looks down the table to some girl whose name begins with T.

"What happened?" Sirius asks before he can restrain himself.

The younger brother does not answer him though, he just smiles and looks away. And, like so many times before, Elijah Mulciber sticks his big head into it and starts talking, coming up with something frustrating and exasperating to say, as usual.

"Looks like someone's lost their big V - "

"Shut up," the elder brother says, elbowing Elijah and laughing. When Regulus does not answer though, Sirius bites his lip with worry. "He's joking, right?" he asks.

The reddening of Reg's cheeks is answer enough.

"You have got to be kidding me!" Sirius cries. "Tell me he's joking? You did not lose your virginity did you?"

Regulus doesn't answer, and Sirius, before he knows it, is consumed with anger. "Why would you do that Reg? Why? It's supposed to be something meaningful and special, not a drunken fuck on the bed beside your friends - "

"Oh, come off it. You lost yours in fifth year in the fucking broom closet! Who are you to tell me how I should and shouldn't lose my virginity?" the younger Black shouts back indignantly. "Regardless of how I lost my virginity, you're the last person I'm going to be going to for a lecture of the meanings of sex and the sentiment it holds."

Sirius is taken back, and a little worried. He has no come back. That's a first! He shrugs in response. "How was it?"

"Freakin' amazing..." he breathes, his twinkling blue eyes, much like his brother's in shape but not in colour, light up like he's never been happier in his entire life.

"I … you know … lasted longer than I thought I would."

Sirius shakes his head. "I can't believe you. I don't want you to turn out like me. You have so much going for you-"

"That's his code for have a threesome like I did when I turned seventeen!"

Sirius shakes his head again. He turned seventeen back in September and sort of did have a... Never mind...

"Come on then Regs. Tell me all about it."

* * *

_~flying~_

* * *

The train is fast - very fast. He has never noticed how fast it passes before. But it will all be slow when he gets stoned, of course. He is in the middle of rolling a joint. The "trolley lady" just left and will not come around for another two or so hours.

He is with Thomas, Elijah, Regulus and surprisingly, Macnair.

The last month and a bit has passed without much activity. Hufflepuff beat Ravenclaw in the Quidditch match, primarily because the star Ravenclaw player was off sick and could not play. Then, to add to that, one of the chasers was knocked out by a rogue bludger from one of their own team. Work has been steadily getting harder - more and longer essays, extra homework, short time-spans to complete it, fuller lessons...

It is hard, but it is a good way for Sirius to forget all about Gryffindor and the Marauders and just focus on getting the work done and playing the most convincing Slytherin ever.

"Mine's better than yours," Sirius murmurs to Tommy, laughing when the other guys huffs impatiently. "It's alright though, I'm sure you'll improve. You just haven't had enough practise."

"And you have?"

The silver-eyed Slytherin responds eagerly, "Believe it or not, but Remus was the one who introduced it to us in Fourth Year. He used it to take the pain away..." Sirius stops himself quickly but continues talking in a more cautious voice, "and one day we found it, rolled a rather shit one and watched him go off on one. Then he taught us how to roll. He's a good teacher. I always told him he should be a teacher. We smoked it and since then … have occasionally gotten stoned." He smiles nostalgically and then pops the joint into his mouth.

There is an awkward silence, and then Regulus says in a quiet voice, "You haven't spoken about them at all 'till now."

Sirius swallows. "Yeah..." Then he shakes his head. "Let's stop acting like a bunch of faggots and light one up!" He clicks his fingers and it lights. Within fifteen minutes, the joints are finished and they are all high. Like kites. So fucking high. In the sky.

Shiiiittttttt...

"Takyra," says Regulus, "her name is so pretty. She told me it's Latin, means light, the sun, the..." he licks his lips and swallows noisily. It is his first time getting high.

And he keeps smiling at them like he has metal rods keeping his mouth shaped into a wide, beaming grin. "I forgot what I was going to say."

They all laugh even though what he said is so unfunny. Unfunny? Is that even a word...?

Sirius lights and soon finishes off his fag; patiently waiting, like a labrador, for things to speed by.

But of course, intoxication off of cannabis really is not going to speed things up, is it? If anything, the velocity at which things shoot by will slow down _exponentially_...

Sirius shakes his head. He definitely should not think whilst high. Otherwise, big fancy words will explode out of him and he will get all mind-fucked and stuff.

"Gimme a fag," Elijah calls over lazily. With the speed of a snail, he leans over, plucks one out and hands it to the Mulciber, who replies with a "Ta."

"Ta?" asks Sirius slowly. "The only people who say 'ta' are middle-aged paedophiles or old women. Never say 'ta' again, for as long as we're friends."

The "trolley lady" doesn't pop by again, but maybe the waves of smoke cascading from under the door are a warning not to come anywhere near. Either way, she stays as far from them as she can. The train stops after endless hours, like time is on a loop, playing over and over and -

"Sirius?" Matthew Macnair says. "The train's stopped. Let's go."

He gets up a little unsteadily and the door opens. Wave after wave of smoke rolls out, filling the corridor. People cough and look up, like the timid little First Years. Sirius laughs until he sees Lily Evans, furious as ever, storming towards them.

"It's _strictly_ prohibited to smoke on the train! And from the smell of that, you're not only smoking tobacco-"

"How do you know what cannabis smells like, Mudblood?" snaps Elijah. Sirius stumbles. He does not know what to do.

_Fuckfuckfuck!_

Why does he have to be high right now? No, surely he should stick up for Evans, right? She is just doing her job as a prefect...

"Yeah, you dirty little Mudblood. It's none of your business what we were doing in there, so fuck off and go whore about like the tramp you are," Thomas Avery spits at her after Mulciber's cruel verbal abuse.

Lily's lower lip trembles and her eyes water, but she is never one to back down. "McGonagall will hear about this."

"Yeah, and the worse we'll get for it is a week of detention or two. But if you don't keep your head down, Mudblood, you'll face a lot worse..." Elijah whispered vehemently, looking more frightening than ever. His face is darker, eyes wider (but still red from the joints) and he is growling at her.

Lily steps away and finds her back meeting the wall of the train. She has nowhere to run. But she does not need to. She should not have to, just because of her blood.

Sirius cannot stand it. He barges them and disperses the crowd around them, some listening and others simply sniffing the scented air. "Come off it guys. She's just doing her job. Just go for a second, okay. I'll sort this out."

It is Regulus who leads them away, muttering under his breath to them, "Try not to get in arguments with his old house mates. He's still delicate about the whole situation."

Sirius scoffs and turns to face her with a smile on his face, but it slips off. Lily's grasping with one hand, the material of her school cardigan, and she is hyperventilating, her breathing worryingly uneven. She brushes the tears cascading down her face impatiently and refuses to meet Sirius's eye.

Lily is beautiful. She is not dirty, she is not a tramp or a whore … just because she has Muggle blood in her. It does not make her lesser than any of them. Sirius clicks his tongue and forces the Gryffindor thoughts away. For the next few years, he has to be a Slytherin. He has to be colder, harsher, and crueller.

But in that moment, looking down at the love of his old best friend's life, he cannot be harsh or cold or cruel. He cradles her face, brushes the unrestrained tears away and drags her into a compartment with him. She needs to compose herself. She is Lily. She is the rock of the Sixth Year Gryffindors. She is the sturdy one, the studious student, the kind-hearted girl...

"W-wh-what h-have I e-ever done t-to t-them?" she stutters, burying her face in her hands. Before he knows it, Sirius wraps his arms around her and holds her. Sometimes, people just need a good hold. Sometimes, they just need a little love.

"Don't cry," he breathes to her. "Don't be upset. They're just being horrible. If it's any consolation, I don't agree with a word they said."

"B-but you're one of them n-now. And I don't kn-know w-why you've l-left Sirius, but I wish y-you never d-did. You're t-too good to b-be friends with t-them." She looks up at him and stares with her large, furious green eyes. They are very pretty.

"You wouldn't understand," he replies in a patient yet slightly condescending voice. "But don't cry Lily. Don't give them the satisfaction of letting them see you cry. Show them you're proud. They hate that."

"Y-yeah?" she sniffs, looking up with a smile for the first time that day - a smile that warms Sirius up. If he has cheered her up, then that is a job well done.

"Yes. Now, I've got to dash. I'll see you next year. Merry Christmas Ev- ... Lily." He smiles most handsomely at her, and then is gone before she can even answer. And though he has snatched his leather jacket from where he dumped it at the threshold of the compartment door, he seems to have totally forgotten his satchel on the other side of the door.

"Sirius!" Lily cries a little too late, but he cannot hear her. He is gone.

Maybe...

_No, that's an invasion of privacy_, she thinks. Yet her hands seem to have a mind of their own. They open the satchel, push aside the cigarettes littering it, and locate something she doesn't expect: a red, leather bound journal sitting right at the bottom.

_No, don't do this, don't do it Lily!_

Lily pockets the journal, sets back down the satchel and walks with her head held high out of the compartment. If the answers to Sirius's sudden abandonment of Gryffindor are in the journal, she wants to see them. She wants to know why he left. Surely the journal will tell her why he left?

* * *

_~dread~_

* * *

"Elijah, are you coming over for the holidays? We're hosting a Christmas Party, now that our family is back together, and it simply wouldn't be the same without a few of Sirius's now closest friends."

Walburga is beaming widely at the group of boys around her. Sirius can see her sending fleeting glances to the pureblood parents around her. Those looks read: _"look at us, united at last! The greatest Blacks, the greatest purebloods of all!"_

He rolls his eyes but nods. "Yes, do come over please. I perish at the thought of being stuck for three weeks with just my _scrawny_ brother for company."

Regulus elbows him, but it is slow and uncoordinated. "Shut up," he says quickly. Then he asks their house elf Kreacher to carry his bags for him. "Are we off then?"

Walburga nods. "Alright boys. Take care, we'll see you soon. But please do be sure to pop around before the party. It'll lift Sirius and Regulus's spirits, I'm sure. Goodbye, boys."

"Bye Mrs. Black," Thomas, Matthew and Elijah chorus, smirking their charming, pureblood smiles. They clap Regulus on the shoulder and almost hesitantly clap Sirius's shoulder too.

"We'll see you soon," Regulus murmurs before walking hurriedly after his mother and the house elf.

Sirius smiles at them softly. "See you guys later."

Maybe it is because his opinions have changed, the way he thinks, feels, hopes and wishes. But he is a changed person. Because as soon as they enter the House of Black, it suddenly does not seem as _cold_ as usual, or as dark and shadowed and daunting.

The house is filled with fumes of extravagant cooking. "Dinner is close to being served by Kreacher, Mistress. Is Mistress wanting to change first?"

Walburga does not even look at him as she flings her coat and handbag at him. "Send Haughty to assist me into changing for clothes to suit this … special occasion."

"Special occasion?" He might be stoned but her eldest son can still get the meaning of what she is saying.

"Yes, we have a guest over in the drawing room. Get changed boys then go to the dining hall for dinner." Her voice is a little less aloof than usual when she talks to Sirius, but he can tell she still does not trust him quite yet.

Guest? Who could the guest be? He obeys his mother's command anyway and ascends the staircase with Regulus to the third floor, where their bedrooms are and the one bathroom they share.

Sirius's room is a little larger. He grins when he steps inside. It is the epitome of rebellion and recklessness: half naked Muggles plastered to the walls, Gryffindor colours hanging from the windows and bed frame, pictures permanently glued to the surfaces of him, Remus, James and Peter.

He suddenly tears his eyes away and hurried over to his wardrobe, pulling out his best robes and running to Regulus's room. He cannot bear it. The sight of them in their Fifth Year, so happy, so affectionate for one another. No, he cannot even bear to look at the sight of his room.

He slams the door shut to Regulus's room and hears a yelp. "Watch it," the younger brother says.

"Sorry," Sirius replies. "I didn't mean to frighten you. It's just..."

"Your room, isn't it? That's what's upset you," Regulus says softly, his blue eyes twinkling away. He is still high but it is wearing off for him now.

Sirius coughs into his hand and starts to pull his clothes off, unabashed and clearly not embarrassed at all at the love bites covering his neck and chest and abdomen. "It's not that," he says defensively.

"BOYS!" a voice calls from downstairs. "Hurry up, your dinner will get cold."

Thankful for the distraction, he mutters, "Nevermind," and brushes his hair back with one hand before catapulting out of the room. Before he knows it, he and Regulus are racing down the stairs, three at a time, four at a time, and pushing each other roughly in hopes that they'll win.

They race down a corridor, through another and stop at the dining hall door, panting. "I won," says Regulus triumphantly.

"Only because you elbowed me in the head. That's a dirty trick, that is. You could've taken out my eye."

They push open the door, and whilst Regulus is too busy inhaling the beautiful fumes of roast chicken, potatoes and roasted vegetables, Sirius is still trying ever so hard to register the grinning woman standing a few feet away from him, dressed from head to toe in dark robes.

_Bellatrix._

"Bella," he says hoarsely, his throat suddenly dry, like paper, and thick. He swallows noisily.

"Sirius," she replies silkily. "I've got a little proposition for you."

His father, standing not too far away, is beaming at them as if he has never been happier.

"What?" asks Sirius quietly. He thinks he already knows though.

Bellatrix loves to play with her prey. She stalks forward, until her forehead is almost brushes Sirius's eyebrows. He's about two inches taller, but he doesn't feel it. She towers over him, strokes his cheek and whispers softly, "How would you like to become a Death Eater?"

_Fuck._

* * *

**A/N: **I know this hasn't been updated as quickly as the others, but I've tried really hard on it and I hope you all enjoy it!

Please do review! Please please pur-leaseeeee!


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: **Sorry for the dramatic wait, I've had quite a few exams *weeps hysterically* and overall not the most pleasant of weeks. Brawls, getting caught smoking by the ... less amiable family members and of course, losing quite a bit of money. But writing this has definitely lifted my unpleasant mood!

You know what else would lift my spirits? Reviews! Please do leave a comment of what you think of this story so far! And thank you all so much for the amazing comments so far, virtual cookies for you all xx

Beta'ed by Dragon Silhouette:'D

* * *

**Part Two**

**Progression**

_xoxo_

* * *

Sirius has attended dozens of formal attire parties before. Haughty or Kreacher usually wash him despite his vehement protestations, dress him in robes of silk or cashmere, comb his hair until it's immaculate and shine his dragonhide shoes. He does, after all, carry the Black name with him, being the heir and all. He has to look the best, simply the best. _Or else..._

Right now however, getting dressed by Haughty and Kreacher whilst they bicker over him really is a tiresome event. Moreover, Sirius's pureblood Slytherin friends (Elijah, Tommy and Matthew) are all sitting on his large four-poster bed, laughing at him and the house-elf antics.

"Can't you dress yourself Sirius?" taunts Elijah, grinning widely at him. "Or are you too important to waste energy doing such a trivial thing? You need help with it, don't you?"

"Sod off, Elijah," Sirius growls, sticking the most … impolite of fingers up at his friend. Then he winces when his outer robe, made of wool, is tightened even more and practically strangles his lungs. "Lay off it, it's tight enough-"

This brings another round of laughter from the teenagers, who point at Sirius and smirk. He pouts in answer. "Sorry I'm rich enough to own house-elves bred well enough to know they should dress me. You guys have the runty sort." He waves a hand and flourishes his hair outlandishly, smirking when they all burst out in loud bouts of protest.

"Oi, don't go calling my house-elves runty. They'll flatten yours in a fight. They flattened my cousin's. Almost killed one of my his house-elves," Tommy says before looking off into the air almost nostalgically. "You know, it was in that moment I realised just why Muggles like watching dogs fight. It's entertaining." Everyone laughs, save Sirius, who manages a smile.

Dear God, does he really have to be so … abhorrent? He sure is in for the ride of his _life_ ...

But then Regulus enters the room, wearing only some trousers and towel-drying his hair. "Sirius, stop hogging the elves. Kreacher, would it be alright if you could help me out?"

Kreacher walks by Sirius, stepping on his foot - totally by accident of course - and rushes to Regulus's side, bowing and murmuring profusely, "Of course, Master Reg."

"Is your girlfriend coming Reg?" asks Sirius.

His brother nods and says hastily, "Yeah, she'll be here soon. Hence why I want Kreacher to help me get ready. I have to look perfect."

"Might as well take Haughty too then. You look nothing short of a crack addict right now." It's true, really. Reg's hair is up in all directions, worse than James's; and his skin is pale and still damp from the shower, though it looks like perspiration more than anything.

"Fuck off Sirius." Then Regulus leaves the room, the two small house-elves in tow.

He talks to his friends whilst he puts on his freshly laundered socks (_really_?) and his polished shoes. Sirius looks in the mirror and has to admit, he likes what he sees. He looks innocent, not like the Death Eater Bellatrix is trying to turn him into.

He has managed to postpone her, after a little bit of pleading on his side. But it's what he needs; time. Surely Dumbledore is going to offer him some advice, he should wait. Bid his time and gather as much information and skill before he finally throws himself into the snake pit with Mouldy Voldy. The conversation between Sirius and Bellatrix went something like this:

* * *

_~memory~_

* * *

Orion has just sent Regulus to wait outside the door, but the clever boy already knows what's going on inside the room.

"Sirius?" asks Bellatrix. He doesn't respond though, too busy trying to think of a way out of this situation. He can always dodge out of the plan, but it'll be riskier than ever. And on top of that, would anyone even believe him? After everything he has done and said, it's no surprise the Marauders and any Gryffindor for that matter doesn't want to speak to him.

"Well then?" Bellatrix says again, more forcefully this time and with a hint of cruelty sparkling away in her eyes. "What do you say? You're seventeen Sirius. It's time to live up to your family name and become the Death Eater that is expected of you."

"But father!" the teenager says desperately, turning to face Orion. His pleading eyes search his father's. "I became the Slytherin I promised to become! You can't do this to me, barely a few months after. That's cruel, after everything I've done. I've given up my friends, everyone I care about, and you're going to..." He can't believe it, can't believe them. He's done everything they have asked of him. And they're still going to try and make him a Death Eater?

What happened to waiting a while, letting him adjust?

Fuck, what has Sirius gotten himself into?

He sits down and Bellatrix takes the seat opposite him. Sirius can feel his mother's pincer-like fingers digging into his knee when she places her hand atop it. Like she's trying to "calm" him down. As if her of all people could achieve such a feat right now.

He panics; "I haven't even sat my NEWTs. What if I fail, what if I'm _awful_-"

"Don't try that crap, cousin. We've seen your OWLs, they're excellent. And even if one does fail any wizarding exams, the Dark Lord is merciful and fair, he finds a job for everyone and anyone, even the most incompetent. Something that you clearly are not, dear cousin."

Sirius swallows. "You're serious aren't you."

She smiles at him, leans over and kisses his forehead. It's one of the most intimidating things ever, and Sirius has to pretend he enjoys it. He smiles at Bella, whether forced or not, and she smiles back again. "I have so many dreams for you Sirius. So, what do you say?"

"I d-don't know." He really doesn't. But … isn't this what Dumbledore wants? How can the man be so cruel! Dictating Sirius's life, using him as a means to get what he wants, no matter how hard or cold it'll be for the young boy.

And what the Headmaster wants is to bring about the end to Voldemort, and the darkness he purges the world with. "Can I think about it?" He can hear his father exhale angrily, and his mother's nails dig deeper into his skin, but surprisingly, Bellatrix laughs softly, a beautiful yet chilling sound.

"Of course. Have as long as you need, Sirius. Well, not too long. The Death Eater Initiation is during Easter. If you do decide, you'll see many of your friends there. Snape, Avery, Mulciber, Macnair. They've all confirmed that as soon as Easter commences, they are most likely going to attend the initiation and become Death Eaters. Fully fledged and proud."

He swallows. "Let me think about it-"

"It's probably the Gryffindor in him," Walburga says hastily, capturing the room's attention, "it's battling with the Slytherin instinct telling him to accept the offer. But I promise Bella my darling, he'll be there in Easter. You can come and pick him up yourself."

"I hope to see you there Sirius," says Bella. "I've told the Dark Lord so much about you. I told him you're the future of the House of Black."

"And what a bright future it'll be," Orion laughs softly, kissing his niece's hand and cocking his head. "Off with you Bella dear. And tell the Dark Lord Sirius is preparing to accept his offer."

Sirius swallows, wanting to scream "no!" as loud as he can. But he doesn't. Because his life, just his one lone life, is not as important as the hundreds of thousands that would be saved if he just says yes.

"Long Live the Dark Lord!" shouts Bellatrix.

"Long Live the Dark Lord!" Orion and Walburga repeat, fists in the air and proud expressions on their faces. Then they're all waiting for him.

"Long Live," murmurs Sirius under his breath, as all eyes turn on him, then he says with a louder, more passionate voice, "LONG LIVE THE DARK LORD!"

* * *

_~dark~_

* * *

"Finally," sighs Tommy, "it seemed like you were going to take forever. Worse than my bloody sister." He frowns, sending a mock-glare to Sirius.

"Oh shut up," he says, looking in the mirror one last time before cocking his head to the other side of the room, where the door is. "Let's go then, you moping bunch of pansies." They all laugh lightly as they walk through the house. Guests are appearing from inside the fireplace. A few extra borrowed house-elves are attending to them, taking their coats, jackets, umbrellas and bags. Other guests are apparating right into the garden, where the party is.

Yes, a garden party in the middle of winter. But fear not, magic really is a beautiful thing. The marquees and the whole garden in fact have spells on them to keep the chill from entering, and waves of gentle warm air hover above the wizards and witches. Candles are drifting around the very large area, where dozens of guests are.

It's stunning, with the lights, the starry night, the leaves swirling in the winter breeze. Everything is frosty, despite the charmed warmness of the garden. Sirius looks up and smiles when he sees his little brother hug his girlfriend and kiss her hand (informalities such as snogging her in front of her parents are simply not allowed in the pureblood culture).

There are old men in the corner, cackling and toasting their glasses filled with mead. Sirius watches them and wonders whether he'll ever become like that - you know, fake, empty and almost robotic. Because essentially, that is what they are. Robots of what they've always been taught to be and never what they _truly _want to be.

Haughty approaches Sirius, a tray filled with appetisers no larger than marbles and half-filled glasses of mead and champagne. He snatches two glasses and drains them each instantly. He should get a little drunk if the night is to be even a small bit bearable, what with all the pompous gits and stuck up snobs around.

So far, Sirius can't deny that the party is tolerable. Boring but at the same time undoubtedly entertaining. He watches adults argue good naturedly when Sirius can tell they'd give anything to throttle the other. Kids his age waltz around, acting much older than they really are, smirking and outlandishly waving their faces and hands in the air. As if they're better than everyone, including him.

No one's better than him though. He's off to try and kill ol' Voldy, ain't he? And he's the only one really who has the potential and position to do it.

Sirius swallows the champagne a little slower and licks his lips slowly. That's when Mulciber, Avery and Macnair approach him. They're grinning a little wildly, and cock their heads. "Follow us," whispers Macnair. He follows them, cursing the dim candles leading out of the marquee and into the darker part of the garden, where the Warming Spells are a little weaker and the bout of laughter and chatter from the party is almost completely diminished.

The four Slytherins stop behind the large oak tree Sirius has always felt sentimental value for and check to see if there's anyone around. He smiles at them. "What's up then?" he asks, already knowing "what's up".

Within ten minutes, three joints are circulating. It's like Sirius has three drags of one joint, hands it over, and another one just makes its way into his hand less than twenty seconds later. He grins and then covers his mouth when laughter threatens to spill out.

"Reg's going to be annoyed. I'm scared he's going to turn into a drug addict or something. He loves getting stoned now, and I feel like we've corrupted him. We shouldn't have corrupted him. You should feel ashamed guys, I sure do. I mean, what if he drops out of Hogwarts and just goes around, smoking cannabis and selling other storts of drugs. We should never have introduced-"

"Jesus Christ, Sirius! Talk a little slower, will you? My head's hurtin'," Elijah says, but then his stern expression slips off his face and he starts laughing almost hysterically. He beams at them and then says very loudly, "Quite divine today, wouldn't you say?"

"Yes, quite," his best friend Tommy Avery replies. "Merry Christmas mate."

"Merry Christmas," Elijah says back, clapping his friend on the shoulder. Then he looks at each of them and says in a much quieter voice, "Look, I wasn't sure if I should tell you guys. Well, of course I'd tell you Tommy-" he ignores Avery's annoyed growl at being called Tommy and continues, "because you're my best friend, and I know I can trust you Macnair. But I was worried about you Sirius. And then I realised I had nothing to be worried about, because Bellatrix told me you're going to become a Death Eater in Easter too."

Elijah swallows and looks at them, appearing a lot calmer than what he's saying seems to suggest. He takes the joint off his best friend, inhales deeply, exhales and starts to speak again, "But I'm going to do it. I'm going to become a Death Eater. I'm seventeen next month and I've got nothing holding me back. My uncle's a Death Eater for fuck's sake."

There's a quiet pause whilst the others register very slowly what he's saying. Then Matthew Macnair claps Elijah a little too forcefully on the shoulder and beams at him. "I'm becoming one too. It's all that I'm interested in. Nothing else spikes an interest. Apart from this cause."

"Long Live the Dark Lord!" cries Mulciber most enthusiastically, then he grins. "And Long Live the Death Eaters too."

It's a while before they emerge from the trees, but not before seeing, in the opposite corner of the dark un-covered section of the garden, two figures enthusiastically making out. Yes, Regulus and his shy girlfriend. She's kissing back just as vigourously and Sirius starts to feel a little bad, looking away hastily and banging into Macnair when he starts to walk without looking.

He's considerably high, and when Haughty passes him again with brandy this time, he stops, snatches three glasses and drinks them all in quick succession of one another. He's aware of Tommy right beside him, muttering in his ear and grasping his arm to stop Sirius from swaying so much. He's drunk now too. Great. But oh well, no one will notice. All the adults are a little tipsy too.

Then the sound of a voice clearly and a "Sonorus" being cast echoes through the garden. It's Orion, at the front where the band are playing. He hushes everyone with a few nicely placed compliments and smiles. Then he clangs his teaspoon against his champagne glass again and now there is almost total silence.

"First," he says, in a voice that isn't much like usual, "I'd like to thank everyone for attending. I wish you all a very Merry Christmas, which started an hour ago. You know, when we were busy arguing over the last few drops of brandy and placing bets on the hippogriff races on the WWN." There's laughter and Orion smiles that charismatic smile of his. "But as much as I wish you all a good Christmas, this speech is mainly for the benefit of my eldest son, Sirius."

All eyes turn to the slouched, red-eyed Sirius Black. He looks very handsome, as do most of the pureblood males around him. But there's something different about him. As outlandish and arrogant as he is, Gryffindor still spills from his soul and sings from his heart. He's not a snake, even though he's lounging in the serpent pit. He's a lion, through and through.

"I admit," calls Orion, regaining most of the garden's attention, "I had long since given up on my son. But our mutual agreement for him to move into Slytherin has salvaged our relationship. And all the things once said to one another, through anger and disappointment, have long since been forgotten. Sirius's transfer into Slytherin has shown me one thing; that as individual purebloods, we are weak, but as a force under the Dark Lord's guidance, we are strong, powerful and have the control to change any and everything."

There's murmured agreements and even toasts. Sirius can't help but be drawn under his father's enigmatic and hypnotising wing. He swallows a little harshly. His mouth feels like sandpaper. But then his attention is stolen once more when his father starts talking again.

"On the heir's seventeenth birthday, it's a Black family custom for the father to pass down a ring with the House of Black crest on it. Sirius, I know your birthday was months ago, but I feel as though you've only just _really _come back into the family. I promised myself I'd give this to Regulus but ... if you'd please..."

It's Tommy's forceful arm pushing him forward that snaps Sirius out of his reverie. He looks at his father and swallows again, cursing the dryness of his throat. When he's standing before his father, only an inch or two shorter, he manages a smile.

"Thank you father."

He sticks out his right hand and watches when it is slipped onto his middle finger. The black ring stands out against his skin. The diamonds forming the crest shimmer in the candlelight and shine brighter than stars, even, against the pale contrast of Sirius's skin.

"I'm happy to have you back in the family, son." Orion's voice glimmers with emotion and Sirius genuinely feels something towards his father. As much as he hates to admit it, but he's always preferred his father's aggressive hand to his mother's banshee shrieks. He'd rather be beaten than screamed at a million times over.

They hug briefly in which there is cheering and more toasting. The band start playing music again just as everyone in the garden screams at the top of their lungs, "LONG LIVE THE DARK LORD!"

Long live him indeed, Sirius thinks.

As he walks back to where he once stood, he sees a familiar face. Light, gentle and partially obscured by golden blonde hair, is Serena Yaxley. She turns to look at Sirius when Churchfield elbows her lightly. He and Yaxley both turn bright red, but despite this, Yaxley's eyes flutter down to his crotch area for a brief moment. Cheeky little bugger.

"Yaxley," he says.

"Black," Serena replies tersely, swallowing hard and loftily lifting her head.

"I didn't know you were going to be here."

"I didn't know until this morning I was going to be here."

Churchfield must have run off, because it's just them two now, near the appetiser table. She's staring resolutely at her feet. Yaxley looks very pretty, thinks Sirius. In her light blue dress and crystal coloured shoes, he has to admit he's quite attracted to her right now.

"Look," she begins but he cuts her off.

"No, don't," he hurriedly says. "Let's leave it at 'you saw my dick and I saw you looking for quite a while at it' before things turn even more awkward. I don't even want to know what you were doing in my dorm room, and I'm pretty sure you don't really want to know why I was naked in the bathroom. Though now I think about it, being naked in a bathroom is normal-"

"Are you drunk?" she asks before laughing. "I thought something was up when it took you forever to make your way over to your dad when he was presented you with the family Black heirloom."

Sirius winks at her and then puts a finger over her mouth, "Shh, it's a secret."

Yaxley smiles at him. "Of course."

"Having a good Christmas then?" he asks, looking at his Slytherin friends nearby, giggling and arguing over the bottle of firewhiskey sitting on the polished, expensive garden table.

"Yes, thank you. It's a lot quieter than I would have liked, but that just means more time to work hard for lessons. You?"

He shrugs. "It's alright. A bit tired if I'm honest, what with all the family coming 'round to see whether I've really changed or if I'm just being difficult and annoying. Great Aunt Cassiopeia's mostly deaf now and she screams a lot, and Nana Irma's bad leg is getting worse. She's staying over, so she usually wakes all of us up with her roaring and bellowed orders at the house-elves during the night."

Serena grins. "They'll probably die soon. You know, Blacks don't usually live that long. Apparently it's a curse."

Sirius nods eagerly. "It is a curse. We've got a bit of Veela blood up in our family tree, supposedly why we're all so good looking and what not. But anyway, apparently the Veela who married my great-great-great grandfather wasn't supposed to marry him. So her family set a curse on the Blacks, wishing them bad luck for corrupting the family or whatever."

Serena raises a petite eyebrow. "I agree with the whole good-looking and corrupting part. But _really_? Bad luck? You'll have to say more to impress me than evil Veelas and cursed family members."

They speak for a little longer, not noticing their parents fixing them with sly smiles and whispering under their breaths. Serena's father, Alexander Yaxley, laughs with his wife, Elizabeth, and nods quickly. "I can see a budding romance, if ever I saw one."

"Yes, and a sweet one it will be," Walburga replies but then her face hardens when she sees the smile slip off of Elizabeth's face.

"Quick question, Walburga dear," says Mrs Yaxley, "I hear from relatives and some of my nephews and nieces that your son has a … more than enthusiastic love life."

Orion coughs into his House of Black handkerchief whilst shaking his head. "See now, that was when he was friends with the likes of half-bloods and traitors like Potter. He's toughened up considerably, now he's acquainted with Elijah and Thomas, good boys as you well know."

When a Slytherin says _good _they, more often than not, mean good as in a person who despises mudbloods, and hero-worships the Dark Lord. Not good as in the type to pop to the shops to get some bread and milk, or the type to buy his mother flowers just because he feels like it.

"Very good boys from what I hear, yes," Alexander replies. "Well, Serena is reaching the age of marriage-"

"As is Sirius," Walburga hastily interrupts, very excited at where the conversation is rapidly turning.

Alexander nods once he smiles at her. "Yes. And I think it would do me no higher honour than to have your son, Sirius, as one of the potential prospects."

"Potential prospect?" asks Orion but then he takes the bite out of his voice, remembering when he was younger and his sister Lucretia courted several different men, all her potential prospects. That was until she finally married Ignatius Prewett of course. "Yes, a potential prospect. Of course, I understand completely. Sirius's reunion with … the family is still running on the more careful waters. But you heard, I'm sure, from my wife earlier?"

"Heard what, Orion my friend?" asks Alexander.

"About my eldest son of course?" boasted the dark-haired father. "Oh, well I'll tell you now then of course. But it mustn't be told around of course, Sirius isn't quite comfortable yet with people knowing."

Walburga grins widely and nods. "Yes, you see, Sirius is becoming a Death Eater, hopefully by Easter. The initiation is in a few months and by then, he'll be part of the Dark Lord's circle."

The Yaxleys gasp, a little more dramatically than needed. "Really? Oh, you must be so proud."

The Blacks nod haughtily. "Of course," they say simultaneously.

"Of course we're proud," repeats Walburga, "he has the name of the Blacks in his hands. And the way he's going, it'll be an even greater name indeed."

* * *

_~shocked~_

* * *

Sirius yawns. He's so tired. But he can't blame anyone but himself. Getting stoned always makes anyone tired. He falls on the bed and groans. He's too tired to move. But he knows he has too. Sluggishly getting up, Sirius rolls over and tiredly looks at the package on his bed.

There's a card on it. Sirius picks up the package, which is very light and quite small, and plucks the card from it. It says:

_Padfoot,_

_Keep it. It was a gift in Second Year, and it's still a gift now._

_Who knows, you might get in a spot of trouble with the snakes and need help or something._

_Prongs._

Sirius smiles softly, reads the card again and puts it down before ripping open the packaging paper, already knowing what's inside. Reflecting back at him is his face, and the object giving such reflection is the mirror. A mirror that's always acted as a second skin to him, and the artefact has more often than not, provided maximum damage as wide as the Marauders could get away with.

Sirius places the mirror inside his cabinet, kicks his leather shoes off and falls back on the bed, not even bothering to change and certainly not bothering to brush his teeth.

* * *

**A/N: **So yes, Sirius is sort of betrothed to Yaxley, or at least, her parents are considering it. He is also going to become a Death Eater in Easter, which I might just skip to after the next chapter, and of course, Lily still has the diary, though she's not in this update, but will definitely be in the next one.

So much to look forward to! Please _review, _I'd love to hear what you think so far. Have a great day, thanks for reading xxx


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